Page 153 of Nash Falls
Take the bait, take the bait, Rhett.
“Wait, what’s your name?”
Nash turned around. “Dillon Hope.”
“You’re obviously a pro at what you do.”
“I take pride in it. I train for it. And I keep my skill set up-to-date.”
Rhett took a card from his pocket and walked over to him. “Look, come and see me tomorrow at my office. Ten sharp. This little episode showed me that Idoneed protection.”
Nash looked down at the card. “Let me email you my CV, Mr. Temple. You should check me out before hiring me.”
“Good idea. My email’s on the card.”
“Okay, I’ll see you at ten, Mr. Temple.”
“Make it Rhett.”
“If I’m going to work for you, sir, it’s Mr. Temple.”
Rhett looked at Fixx and grinned. “I’m liking this guy more and more.”
“Can you drive with your windshield like that?” asked Nash.
“We only have a short way to go. Thanks again, and I’ll see you tomorrow, Dillon.”
“I’ll follow you until you get to where you’re going safely, Mr. Temple.”
When they got to the estate gates, Nash honked and drove off.
I’m in.
CHAPTER
75
THE RAINDROPS HIT LIKE PISTOLshots against the roof under which Nash was trying to sleep. It was three in the morning when a bolt of lightning smacked down and lit the world outside his window, as though dawn had galloped ahead by several hours.
He rose and stared out the window at the rivulets of rain S-curving down the glass.
In his mind’s eye he went back through every physical strike he had made against the men in saving Rhett and Elaine Fixx: ruined knee, crushed nose cartilage, destroyed hand, damaged esophagus, cracked sternum and jaw, snapped Achilles, and probably a blown-out psyche of the last guy.
He had observed, planned, adapted, and executed with near perfection.
But even though I had a good reason, I hurt those men more than I needed to, in order to get in good with Rhett. My old self was not cut out for this. It is not who I am. No, correction, it is not who I was. It is who I am now. I have to accept that. I never thought I could change who I was. But life gave me no choice. I have never felt so powerful… and powerless.
He leaned his head against the glass and felt the coolness of the storm that was exerting its full power just an inch on the other side.
I am changed on the surface. I am changed below the surface. I have no more surfaces that have not been altered. I am no longer Walter Nash 1.0. Like Shock said, I’m a completely different person, inside and out. But maybe, just maybe, there’s a bit of Walter Nash 1.0 left.
He took out the locket from under the carpet, opened it, and stared down at the picture of his daughter on the day of her birth. It was a risk to keep this memento, he knew. But one look at her face gave him the resolve to carry on. And he needed that, very much.
He dropped back into bed holding on to the locket, slept hard for three hours, got up, did a particularly rigorous workout, and later sprinted through the wet streets until he thought he would heave. He showered and dressed, had breakfast at the same diner, and presented himself at Sybaritic Investments at 9:58 in the morning.
Ellen Douglas, the cookie-lady receptionist, greeted him, though she offered him no treats. He eyed her and she stared back at him, showing no inkling that she might be looking at the former number two in the entire corporation.
“Mr. Temple will be with you shortly, Mr. Hope.”
