Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Collin, by himself, isn’t important enough to warrant all this special attention. But combined with several other factors, he’s the most important asset in the world. And Trinity County is worth the trouble. Jim Bob Baptist thinks he can get away. He thinks he can get out of his contracts. But no one gets out of their contracts with CORE.
I make my way down the stairs, across the room, and into the back hallways, heading for the office Brose and I share. But when I get there, it’s empty.
Turning, I go back the way I came and enter the kitchen, assuming he probably went to get a cup of coffee. But he’s not in there, either.
“Hey,” I say to one of the servers as she hurriedly rushes past. “Have you seen Brose?” She doesn’t even slow down her pace as she pushes her way through a set of double doors, but she acts like she doesn’t hear me. I ask a few more people as they rush around, getting things set up for the day, but no one answers back. They’re all too busy, so I take that as a no.
I look everywhere. I check every room.
He’s gone.
And he’s not answering his phone.
Which means he’s mad.
Mad that I followed Ean out? Or… mad that I told him to meet me somewhere else?
Brose shouldn’t know that I told Ean to meet me outside of the club because we were all the way over by the stairs. I know we have cameras out there, but there are no microphones close enough to where I was standing to hear what was said. I know that for sure because Brose and I signed off on the placements. I know where every single camera is, both inside the club and out.
But what other reason does he have to be mad?
And if he’s not mad, why did he walk out and leave me here without saying anything?
It’s just past noon, so… I guess it’s possible he went to get lunch?
Possible. Just not probable.
No. He’s mad and he left.
He left me.
Externally, I scoff. Because it’s so like him. Jealousy is a thing with Brose. It’s a flaw in his character, even he knows this. That’s why he’s always trying to maintain control, even when I push him to lose it.
But internally I wince. Because if he needed to walk away from me in order to control himself, he’s more than mad. He’s furious.
Inside the locker room I change, ignoring all the girls around me, who are chatty and friendly with each other, but not me. Once that’s done, I put on my coat and go down the stairs to the train station. For a moment, I have a hope that I’ll find Brose there. The train doesn’t stop here every twenty minutes like some stations. In fact, I’m not even sure what the daytime schedule is, since I’ve never left work at noon before.
But Brose is not in the station. There’s no timetable here to check to see what time the train came and when it will be back, either. So I get no answers to any of my questions. Only more questions.
All I can do is sit down on a bench and wait.
Three trains go by before one stops. It confuses me and I don’t understand what it means.
Are they bypassing me on purpose?
Did Brose report me to management?
Am I in trouble?
When I hear the familiar sound of wind displacement to indicate another train is coming, I almost panic that it won’t stop. Or worse, there will be a team of OIS agents on board, sent to retrieve me.
OIS is short for Operative Integrity Service. Which is really just the military police for CORE. If you fuck up bad enough, they come for you. What happens next, nobody knows, because no one comes back from that.
Did I fuck up that bad when I told Ean Shephard to pick a place to meet outside of the Mule Pit? Surely not. I mean, Brose didn’t even give me a chance to explain.
Still, my chest is thumping when the train slides to a stop in the station and the doors open.
I can’t move and I almost don’t get on. But when the chime starts, indicating that the doors are about to close, I step forward and go inside.
There are people there, about a dozen. All of them alone, like me. Most are engrossed in private conversations with whoever is on the other end of their phones, and a few are sitting silently, looking at the window screens.
I take a seat by the door, feeling very out of sorts because I’ve never taken the train alone before. I’ve never had to. I’ve been with Brose every moment of every day since we became partners two years ago.
I get off in Winchester to change trains, then I’m home, in the station below Grid-21. I get off, and again, a sense of displacement washes over me. What if Brose isn’t here?