Page 311 of Shadowman
“Jesus Christ…Fenwick??” Velle barks.
“Um, yes, uh-huh,” Trevel stammers. “It’s me.”
“You got a death wish or something?!” Velle snaps.
“I’d prefer not to answer that right now,” he replies with his usual brand of secret snark, carefully disguised by the accent.
Just hearing his voice and knowing he’s out there is swarming me with too many things.
“What the hell is he doing here?” Joy hisses to us.
Everyone stares at me. My mouth is hanging open, eyes wide as I simply shrug. “How the hell would I know??”
Velle’s glare is on me for a couple of extra studious seconds before he grumbles, “Son of a bitch,” then turns back to his scope. “If he sent you, you’re about to die slow. Was it worth it?”
“That’s a lovely sentiment,” Trevel says. “But no, he didn’t send me. Though I imagine he’ll be on his way when he realizes what I took…”
Velle’s gaze, pressed up to his scope, narrows. “Oh yea? And what’s that?”
“I’ve brought you something, Officer,” Trevel rumbles. “Something that… belongs to him. Something that will undoubtedly help you win.”
“Spill it,” Velle growls. “Or I’ll put a bullet in your favorite ass cheek.”
“Oh, please don’t shoot Byron,” he whines.
Dash snorts, and my jaw clenches.
Enough.
I shove Velle aside to seethe through the hole. “What the fuck do youwant, Trevel??”
He goes quiet for a moment. I peer out into the forest, but I can’t see him. “I… I need to talk to you.”
“So talk,” I grunt.
He’s quiet again. “Can I… Can I see you?”
“Come on out,” I goad, nervous uncertainty gripping my chest when I see Velle’s finger ghosting over the trigger.
“Is… Officer Chevelle going to shoot me?”
“Maybe.”
“Well, tell him not to.”
“I don’t think I can do that,” I bite out of frustration.
He sighs audibly. “Look, I promise you, I’m not here for any other reason than to see you and explain myself, and maybe apologize a few thousand times… and then deliver your bargaining chip. I suppose you can kill me if you’d like, but can it wait until after we talk?”
Falling back from the wall, I scrape a hand over my face.
“Why are we even entertaining this?” Jasper grunts. “Just shoot him in the brain and be done with it.”
“Jesus, babe…” Hancock scolds, shaking his head.
“He’s right,” Ren says, squeezing Luthor’s hand while the other grips his gun. “We can’t trust that chump! He’s a spy… For all we know, he’s trying to steal Byron back!”
I’m chewing on my lower lip while Luthor rumbles, “Okay, that’s a bit extreme…”
