Page 100 of Scarred in Silence
I light a cigarette and watch the smoke snake around in the windshield’s reflection.
“He should be.”
The Utah safe house belonged to a friend-of-a-friend-of-a-dead-man. We’d burned three contacts already to confirm it. Miles wasn’t hiding. He was surviving. But survival is nonexistent when I’m the one hunting you.
Dante eyes me sideways. “What happens when we get him?”
I exhale smoke. “He begs.”
He didn’t ask what for.
* **
We hit the Colorado-Utah border by noon. The sun blazes overhead like a spotlight. Perfect for bloodstains.
Red rock cliffs framed the path like tombstones, and the house lay buried in the canyon. Three guards patrol the outer perimeter. Tactical gear, radios, headsets. Professional. I smile.
“They’ll try to reason first,” Dante said.
“Good.”
We park a half-mile out and approach on foot. My boots kick up dust from the earth. Dante loads his silencer. I don’t bother.
The first guard steps out from behind a Joshua tree. “You don’t want to do this.”
“I do,” I say, and shoot him in the throat. His body spasms, gurgling, dropping to the ground.
The second comes running, tall, ex-military looking prick. He raises his rifle.
Dante puts one in his shoulder and one in his knee. I reach him first. I grab his gun, cracking his jaw with the butt, and kick his leg out. He drops. I stomp his hand until bones snap like twigs.
“Where’s Miles?” I ask.
He spits blood. “Fuck you.”
Wrong answer.
I crouch, reaching into my jacket, and pull out Astra’s necklace—the little silver one she had buried in her belongings at her parents’ house. I needed something that looked valuable. I hold it in front of his face.
“You see this?” I whisper. “It belonged to a girl Miles hurt. A girl who trusted him.”
He blinks. “I don’t—”
I shove the charm into his eye socket, carving out the useless orb.
He screams until his voice cracks. Dante turns away. I don’t.
“You’re going to tell me where he is,” I say calmly. “Or I’ll dig out the other one.”
He breaks. They always do.
* * *
We move on foot to the cliffside entrance. A rusted steel door. Unlocked. Miles was confident or desperate. Probably both.
The inside smells of copper and bleach. Death and cleanup. Miles has been busy. Four more men wait in the hall.
Dante whispers, “We’re outnumbered.”
