Page 57 of Things We Hide from the Light
“Assholes,” Knox muttered.
“I am sorry, Lucy,” I said again.
“You’re forgiven. You’ve been through a lot.”
“Is that why you’re hanging around in town on a Monday night instead of running your evil corporate empire?”
My friend’s lips quirked.
“Seriously, man, if you’re in town just to keep an eye on me, I’ve already got an armed mustache up my ass,” I said, nodding in the direction of Nolan. “You don’t need to camp out here and lose all your money.”
“Running an evil corporate empire means having a team in place to pick up the slack when I’m otherwise engaged.”
“You’re not making that commute up here every day are you?” Traffic in northern Virginia was its own special ring of hell.
Knox snorted. “Don’t get all teary-eyed over the gesture. The empire has a helicopter. Luce is just using you as an excuse to play with his toy.”
“Just don’t land it on the roof of the elementary school. I don’t need the feds, the U.S. marshals,andthe FAA up my ass.”
“How are the wedding plans going?” Lucian asked, changing the subject.
“Can you believe Daze was thinking white linen on the tables? I mean, for fuck’s sake, it’s a Knockemout party, we’re gonna be spillin’ shit all night long. I don’t want our reception lookin’ like the tables are covered in some murdered bed wetter’s sheets.”
My brother certainly knew how to paint a picture.
“So what did you decide to go with?” Lucian asked.
“Navy blue,” Knox said proudly.
“Nice,” Lucian said with an approving nod.
“By the way. You both are groomsmen.” My brother looked at me. “I guess you can be my best man.”
I madeit an hour and fifteen minutes and was damn proud of myself. I’d nursed the second beer, made mostly the right responses, and said my goodbyes when Naomi called Knox to tell him Waylon had chased after the skunk he had a crush on and gotten sprayed. Again.
We said our goodbyes and I tried not to make it look like I was bolting for the door.
I even paused at Nolan’s table where he was shrugging back into his coat.
“I’m walking the ten feet to my door. I think I can survive it on my own,” I told him.
“Your call, Chief. Try not to end up in the gutter full of holes.”
“I’ll do my best,” I lied.
I ducked out into the crisp night, the door closing behind me on the light and the music. Something didn’t feel right. Standing here under the streetlight, mere feet from my front door, I felt exposed, vulnerable, on edge. Something or someone was out there.
Was it him? Had Duncan Hugo come back to finish the job? Or was it all in my imagination?
I cast a glance up and down the street, looking for the source of the doom that settled over me.
My hands began to tingle. It started in my palms and rolled into my fingers.
“Fuck. Not now,” I whispered under my breath. “Not here.”
There was no shooter lurking in the dark. The only villain here was the malfunction in my brain.
The tingling turned to a burn. I closed my hands into tight fists, trying to force the sensation away. I’d stopped it before. But I knew I was already too far gone.
