Page 74 of Black Heart
“Foolish girl,” I hiss under my breath, gripping the banister as I thunder down the stairs.
My boots hammer against the old floors until I push open the front door and step into the foggy Greycliff air. My hands are unsteady, but my mind—my mind is pinpoint sharp.
I huff out a breath, running a hand over my stubble-cladjaw before glancing up at the quiet lighthouse standing sentinel over me.
With nothing but instinct to guide me now, I head for my black Lincoln parked nearby. Once planted in the driver’s seat, a bitter taste rises in my throat, souring the surrounding air.
Of course it had to be Ethan coming to her rescue. Always lurking around Layla like an annoying pop-up notification, even though I’d warned him off. Even after I’d left him gasping on the ground from one mean hook to his windpipe. But perhaps the fool thought I wouldn’t find out. Or worse, he didn’t care.
I slam the dashboard with my palm, rattling the vehicle, a dangerous fury threatening to burst from my chest. I don’t bother to suppress it. I need it. It fuels me, pushes me onward as the engine roars to life.
Gravel pings against the undercarriage like gunfire as I peel out of the driveway and take the winding road into town, all while my GPS begins to churn.
Finally connected to a secure server, my dashboard’s screen flickers to life, displaying a live feed from a tracking device I slipped into Ethan’s van during our last encounter. A precaution. A prediction. And now, it seems, a prophecy fulfilled.
Then I slip on my mask.
23
LAYLA
If there’s one thing about Ethan, it’s that he could never understand the glorious thrill of doing something bad.
There’s a rush, a wave of adrenaline that blooms out of my chest when I merge with a cluster of caterers dressed in a monochrome of black to line up at a service door at the back of Pulse’s building.
I first experienced it when I met the Scythe. The feeling escalated when the Scythe kidnapped me, tied me to a chair, and let me believe a man was about to kill me before interceding and slaughtering that same man in front of me. It didn’t go away when the Scythe gave me his real name, theoretically softening the threat against my life to a more palatable, heartbreaking revenge scheme of a devoted father, even after his daughter’s death. The need for more of a kick, more adrenaline, stayed with me, and now I’ve left the safety of Kaden’s fortress to experience more of it.
Ethan is grounded, intelligent, and uses rational thought to make his way through life. He wanted to work for the CIA but a poorly timed prank involving hacking his university’s gradingsystem branded Ethan as a security risk, dashing his dreams. So he pivoted in a reasonable fashion, working in the private tech industry instead.
Me? I’ve led an independent, lonely life whose excitement consisted of punching my mother’s boyfriends in the nuts if they came too close. I enjoyed the rush then, too, but stayed the course, graduated with honors, and nurtured my talent with computers.
Kaden changed all that when he didn’t just redirect my moral compass, he annihilated it. Thinking of him stops my breath. Picturing Kaden’s punishment when he ultimately catches me tonight, which he will, sparks that glorious thrill. I just hope it’safterI tank Morelli’s AI and render it permanently useless.
When I slip in with a group of catering staff, my black dress allows me to blend seamlessly into their ranks. We approach the service entrance, and I discreetly reach out and press my thumb against the electronic lock’s sensor, my touch delicate and fleeting. A faint blue light flickers beneath my fingertip, and the lock’s LED shifts from red to green for the briefest of moments before reverting back. To anyone watching, it would appear as though I had swiped my access card along with the others, when really, I piggy-backed off the guy in front of me.
The servers and I walk into a portable kitchen built for Pulse’s event, with chefs barking orders and dishes clattering, the air thick with savory aromas that make my empty stomach grumble. I duck and weave through towering hors d’oeuvres balanced precariously on silver trays, ignoring my stomach’s demands and heading for the next corridor. I’ll steal some food later as a nod to my rogue teenager days, because fuck Dawson and this event.
As I slip out of the bustling kitchen and into the hallway, my heart pounds with a mix of exhilaration and apprehension.The high of infiltrating Pulse’s event undetected lifts my chest like a balloon, urging me forward.
The deserted hallway stretches long, its walls adorned with prints where art, technology, and the brightest colors possible collide. Standard office carpeting muffles my heels while I half run, half power walk through it.
I’m so focused on my destination, mentally rehearsing the steps to access the server room, that I nearly collide with a figure when I round the corner.
The stench of expensive whiskey and cigar smoke assaults my nostrils as I instinctively recoil and wrinkle my nose. He sways on his feet, his suit jacket unbuttoned and his tie hanging loosely around his neck as he steadies himself against the wall and struggles to focus.
“Yum,” he slurs, a lecherous grin spreading across his flushed cheeks when he spots me. “What’s a pretty little thing like you doing back here?”
My stomach churns as his eyes rake over my body, lingering on the curves accentuated by the fitted black dress. I take a step back, trying to maintain a professional demeanor despite the alarm bells ringing in my head.
“I’m sorry, sir, but this area is off-limits to guests. If you’ll please allow me to escort you back to the main event space...”
He lurches forward, trapping me against the wall with his bulk in a heartbeat, his breath hot and sour on my cheek. “Nah, I think I’d rather stay right here with you, sweetheart. How about you show me a good time, huh?”
One meaty hand comes up to stroke my cheek, and I barely suppress a shudder.
“You shouldn’t be wanderin’ around all alone. Never know what kinda trouble you might run into.”
My insides revolt, churning with caustic disgust. I force asmile, my mind whirring as I try to find a way out of this situation without blowing my cover.