Page 104 of Rogue
“Francis. Sorry I didn’t bring you into this. We’re still a team, right?”
“You bet.”
He disconnects first and I quickly text Jaxson:
Two men—Novák and his bodyguard prick.
They’ll be leaving Franco’s in thirty.
Be there ASAP.
There’s no sign of anyone else lurking about. No additional bodies, either.
Get Madelyn out of here.
I reenter the trailer to find her sitting on the couch in the living room. “Hurry up and grab you bags. We’ve got to go.” I rush down the narrow hallway and into my bedroom. Then grab and stuff whatever I can into a small duffel bag. “Five minutes is all I can afford,” I shout, hoping she catches on to the urgency in my tone.
“What’s going on, Kylie?” she replies from the doorway.
“No time,” I say, scooping up the few stray pictures on the bureau and shoving them inside my bag.
“Will you stop for one second? I have to share something with you. Late yesterday afternoon, I heard a strange noise, like kids shooting off fireworks. Pop. Pop. Pop. Almost like a gun was being fired. I thought about calling the cops, then calling you. I peeked outside the living room window but didn’t see anyone or anything suspicious. I waited for the slightest sound…which never came. Things grew quiet then I went back to sleep.”
My throat hitches yet I manage to get out, “It was probably the storm.”
She sighs. “No. This happened before the storm. I’m only bringing it up because of what happened next.”
I freeze, then swing my full attention her way. “Next…”
“Don’t go ballistic. I invited a stranger in.”
“Inside the trailer?” I hiss.
“Is there another inside?” She rolls her eyes. “He was sitting on our cement block. Like he was waiting for something. I asked him if was here for you.”
“What did he say?” I ask in a tight voice.
“No.”
What the hell?“Quickly, Madelyn. Then what happened?”
“The storm rolled in. I . . . checked on him. He was still out there, dismissing the storm entirely. I don’t know why but it felt like he was guarding the place. He…um…had a knife.”
“How . . .” I pause to draw air into my lungs. “. . . big was the knife?”
“Let’s put it this way, it was no Swiss Army knife.”
Oh my God. No. NO.
“What did he look like?”
“Handsome.”
“What?”
Madelyn flashes me a smile. “Big. With a broad, well-muscled chest . . .”
My eyes widen to the point they hurt. “His chest?”
