Page 27 of Painted Scars
Pauses between the dialogue betray the sound of fabric scissors slicing velvet ribbons. I want to break the lock of her window, climb through it, seize the scissors, and commit audiobook homicide.
I try to tune out the blood oaths and check communications. Ping Grayson. Anything to distract me from the moaning going on. The only thing that works is digging deeper into her socials and playing silent videos of her Brazilian Ju-Jitsu classes, grappling techniques, and wrist locks. She’s more than capable of taking care of herself.
Grayson’s name flashes on the screen, inviting me to a three-way camera chat. I plug my earbuds in to listen to the conversation.
I accept and mute myself.
Me:Typing mode only for me from here on out.
Katar joins the chat to stay abreast. He’s in the background, carving off someone’s arm to dissolve in acid.
Me:What did you find, Stake?
I use his weapon name to avoid identifying him if the Romans manage to hack our channel.
“I snuck into her blog dashboard and found Kate’s been digging into The Romans’ business for the last two years.”
“Your unicorn’s been very naughty,” Katar grunts.
Busy earning enemies, more like it.
She wants to feel safe like the heroines in her book. Wants someone to go the extra mile to stop her from looking over her shoulder.
And, God, I want to be that guy for her and for every goddamn citizen of Shadow Lake crushed under the Romans’ boots.
First, I need to know what this glitter bomb is playing at. Whose side is she on? Team Citizen or Team Roman?
Me:What kind of information?
“Draft articles outlining insider trading links tying politicians and authority figures to upcoming developments,” Grayson replies in time to the rhythm of tapping keys that is disturbingly soothing, given the corpse in the room behind him.
Katar paints a dick and balls on the corpse’s forehead with a grin that belongs in a padded cell. Exactly the emotional maturity I expect from him. He finishes what he’s doing, brushes his hand with a rag, and tosses it at my nerdy friend. Grayson bats it away with the grace of a man used to biological hazards.
A week ago, I might’ve said my enforcer and Kate make the perfect couple. Chaos incarnate, with knives and strong opinions. Now? Not a chance in hell. He’s the source of nightmares.
Grayson flips his screen to mine. “She’s stockpiling them like a squirrel hoarding nuts.”
Katar snorts. “More like grenades.”
Grayson sends me a link to files that I crack open and review. Expose on Blackthorn’s shady charity laundering. Neptune’s bloody ledger breaks down the mafia family’s war crimes disguised as business disputes.
Pride tightens my chest. She wants to take them down as much as we do. That’s not just brave, it’s fucking brilliant. A thought breaks through. What if we can capitalize on this somehow? Join forces? Only when I ascertain her allegiance.
Grayson types something in rapid-fire. “She’s posted three low-key stories. Mercury detected them in thirty minutes and activated search engine suppression. Now she’s on a watch list.”
I rub my brow and plug in a response.
Me:Fucking Mercury. They monitor everything, down to the local dog park reviews. Kate’s basically waving a red flag at her father, and I wonder if it’s dare or a fuck you?
“That’s a flaming sword,” Katar mumbles, admiring his blood graffiti. “Love that for her.”
Me:Has Blackthorn caught wind of this?
Grayson’s response falls like a hammer. “Most likely if she’s accumulating evidence on him to go public.”
Fuck. Once I win her trust, I’ll have to tell her to take it offline. No digital trace. Paper only. Code names.
I check on her again. Kate’s secured the velvet and has moved on to threading bead tassels for added decoration.
