Page 6 of Faded Rhythm

Brett Graves has one of those voices that automatically loses respect. No matter what he says, that nigga sounds like he’s whining.

“So we’re clear on the details,” I say, a statement more than a question.

“Webeenclear. You the one that’s been stalling.”

“Whatever, man. By the time you wake up tomorrow, it’ll be done.”

He’s quiet for a moment on the other end, and I wonder if he’s thought about the fact that his little girls are gonna find their mother’s body. His logic was that if I did it while they were at school, they’d be left there. Too chaotic, he said. It wasn’t my job to tell him his way was much worse, so I didn’t.

I’ll say this, though: I ain’t much better as the trigger man, but Brett Graves is a piece of shit.

“Aight, hit me on the other burner when it’s done,” he says. “’Preciate it, bruh.”

I hang up.

Check my glove box. Look at my Glock. My gloves are in there, too.

Tonight’s the night.

It’s just another job. Just another body. Clean in, clean out, then back on the road.

But deep down, I know it’s not true.

This Sable woman…the seemingly sweet housewife with a little edge to her…she got under my skin.

If I don’t end this tonight?

I might end up proving AJ right.

4

Sable

The garage door groansshut behind me. I don’t usually close it until I’m at the door leading into the house, but I’m off my game today. Distracted.

I grip the steering wheel as the weight of what lies ahead settles onto me for the first time. My heart thuds. My knuckles are white. I’m overwhelmed.

The USB drive is screaming at me from inside my purse. I’m starting to feel like it was a mistake to take it. Like Brett will know it’s missing.

The car engine ticks as it cools. I reach for my bag, sling it over my shoulder, and open the door. My heels echo against the garage floor, loud and disconcerting. My skin prickles, and I don’t know why. I feel uneasy, and it doesn’t help that the overhead light shuts off before I reach the door.

I feel for the doorknob in the darkness, finding it easily. I exhale as I push the door open and I’m bathed in the light of the house, welcoming me inside.

For some reason, I feel relieved.

I exhale again as I press the numbers on the keypad to disarm the alarm.Beep beep. A familiar sound.

Then there’s another sound. A sound that doesn’t belong.

“Don’t move.”

The voice is low and deep. Male and unfamiliar.

My blood goes cold.

Every muscle in my body tenses as my breath lodges in my throat.

I’m too shocked to be scared. My brain flares with competing thoughts;this is a mistake. This is a prank. He’s gonna kill me. Brett is just messing with me.

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