Page 99 of Madness & Mayhem

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Page 99 of Madness & Mayhem

I was able to find a phone and called one of the family business associates. There is always a plan in place for the Whitmores, and all I needed to do was say the word, and everything falls into place.

New identity, check.

New ID, check.

New bank account, check.

I’m waiting for Lakyn’s new name to be processed, a new ID to be made, and then we’ll be free.

Ryker and Lyana Jarvis.

Married.

As it fucking should be.

After I stopped at the back alleyway to get my new ID and information from the weirdo who processes all the illegal shit, I hopped back in the cab to meet with the landlord.

Right on time.

I pull open the cold metal door, the scent of air fresheners and polished leather reaches my senses. I walk in, instantly finding a middle-aged man in a suit standing near the crackling fireplace as he scrolls through his phone.

The sound of my wet shoes squeaking on the tile reaches my ears, and the landlord must notice, too, because he lifts his head, appraising me quickly as he shoves his phone into his pocket.

“Mr. Jarvis?” he clips.

I nod, running my fingers through my damp hair, my other hand extending toward him. “Hey.”

“You find the place okay?” He glances down at me again, and I can already tell he doesn’t think I have enough money as I wear the Walmart gray sweatsuit.

How wrong he is.

“No problems at all.” I glance around the lobby. “Nice place.”

Everything is in a white and cream marble, from the floors to the countertops. The fireplace is a dark gray, grand in the center of the lobby. The walls have modern ceramic art placed sporadically, and in front of the fireplace is a cream-colored sofa and chair set, both of which look never used a day.

“Yeah. I rent out about five units in this building. All of which have been here for years. The latest tenant got married and were expecting a child, so they decided to upgrade to a single-family home. The unit hasn’t been vacant long, so you’re lucky you found it when you did. These places go quick.”

I hum under my breath, not really caring for the entire story.

He rocks back and forth on his heels before clearing his throat. “Shall we go take a look?”

I dig my hand into my pockets. “Sure. I don’t believe I’ll be changing my mind, though. This unit looks perfect and it’s just what I’m looking for.”

His brow furrows slightly, and he tilts his head toward the elevator. “All right. We can still have a look and go through paperwork and such in the unit.”

I nod, and follow behind him as he heads toward the elevator. It’s all new, this entire place and everything in it feels almost untouched. The doors glide open silently, and a low hum of piano music filters from the speakers in the ceiling. The landlord presses floor five, and I step into the corner as the doors shut.

We glide up slowly, and I watch the doors, hating the fact that he could pop on the news and I’m sure he’d instantly find my face on the front page.

“Where you moving from?” he asks as the doors slide open.

I stick my hand into my pocket, gripping the knife I took from Kyler this morning. I hold on to it tightly, wrapping my fingers around the handle as I get ready to open the blade.

Asking about personal questions is suspicious, and I don’t like it.

“Toronto,” I say simply.

He nods, as if there’s nothing to it. We step out of the elevator, and the landlord takes a left, heading down the quiet hallway. “And what brings you over this way? Quite a hop and a skip across the country.”




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