Page 53 of Closer Than You Think
My heart lurches as I notice a single drop of blood on the concrete floor. It's dark and thick, glistening in the pale light. I kneel down and touch it with my finger. Still wet. She has to be here.
I signal to Cain and point to the blood, then towards a closed door at the end of the corridor. He gives me a grim nod. We've found her trail. Gun raised, I approach the door, Cain covering my six. The doorknob turns easily in my hand, unlocked. My heart hammers against my ribs. I take a breath, steady my nerves, and kick the door open.
My heart sinks to the floor as gunshots ring out around us.
Twenty-Five
Hallie
Ijolt awake, the cold bite of concrete seeping into my skin. My eyes flicker open to half-light, shadows clinging to the space around me like cobwebs. I'm lying on the floor, wrists and ankles chafing against rough bindings. Panic claws up my throat, sharp and sudden, but I swallow it down, refuse to let it consume me.
“Silas,” I whisper, his name a lifeline in the darkness. It's all wrong here—no cozy warmth of my sunlit apartment, no minimalist opulence of Silas’s penthouse. Just the scent of rust and dampness, and an echo of something sinister.
My heart hammers, each beat a staccato rhythm against my chest. But I steady my breathing, force my mind to focus. Think, Hallie, think. Silas is out there, I know it. He's the storm on the horizon, relentless, unforgiving. He'll find me.
“Si,” I try again, louder this time, certain he's listening, even from miles away. The sound bounces off the walls, a testament to the emptiness around me. I picture him in his penthouse, eyes like green fire, senses razor-sharp as he plots his next move. I imagine his voice, measured and precise, cutting through the fog of my fear.
He taught me how to be resilient, showed me that even in the face of danger, hope can be a weapon. I refuse to be broken by the dark, to let fear snuff out the flame inside me.
Shifting slightly, I test the ropes binding my hands. They're tight, but not enough to stop the defiant pulse of my blood. I won't give up. Not when I have so much to fight for, not when Silas is out there, somewhere, moving heaven and earth to get to me.
“Comfortable, Hallie?”
His voice slithers through the darkness—a whisper made of ice and malice. Blake steps into the dim circle of light cast by a single, dangling bulb.
“Blake?” His name comes out as a whisper, my throat dry. “You're the one behind this.”
He's the nightmare that betrayed us, his blue eyes reflecting the cruelty of his smile.
“Guilty,” he drawls, circling me like a shark sensing blood in the water. “Well, sort of. I have a benefactor. Or several. It’s hard to know who exactly you’re dealing with when it comes to the Syndicate, but they were very excited to work with me.”
“You’re a fucking traitor. Silas trusted you.”
“Yeah well, I’m a killer. You shouldn’t trust a killer, Hallie.” He walks toward me, squatting down to look at me closer. “I've watched you and Si play house, so sickeningly sweet. You never even noticed me, did you? The perfect little teacher and the big, bad assassin.”
I stare him down, refusing to blink, even as my stomach knots with fear. “Sending me the rosary . . . You wanted to throw us off, didn't you?”
“Bravo,” he claps mockingly. “A red herring. And you fell for it. Hook, line, and sinker. While Silas had everyone wasting their time looking into Drago and some random church, I was gathering more intel for the Syndicate.”
“Silas will come for me.” It's not just hope; it's knowledge. Silas is relentless. Unforgiving. He'll turn over every stone, burn every bridge to find me.
“Let him try,” Blake sneers, leaning close enough that I can smell the mint on his breath. “It'll be his undoing.”
“Or yours.” I spit the words out, tasting defiance. “I won't be your pawn, Blake. I am not afraid of you.”
His laughter rings hollow in the cavernous space. But his eyes—those icy pits—don't laugh with him. They're calculating, probing for weakness.
“Keep telling yourself that, baby. We both know fear when we see it.”
“Then you're blinder than I thought.” I tighten my jaw, bracing for whatever comes next. If Silas has taught me anything, it's that sometimes the only way out is through.
“Defiant to the end.” Blake's admiration is laced with poison. “I can appreciate that. But it won't save you.”
“Who said anything about needing saving?” Each word is a challenge, a thrown gauntlet at his feet.
“Spoken like a true lover of a killer.” He pauses, his gaze lingering on me. “But let's see how long that spirit lasts.”
The air is thick with the scent of rust and neglect, a sharp contrast to the mint that lingered with his last words. My heart hammers in my chest as Blake's shadow looms over me, his presence chilling the already frigid warehouse air. The dim light from the lone bulb overhead flickers, casting an eerie glow on his chiseled features.
