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Moving to the sofa, my head falls into my palms while my mind whirls with all the fucking questions. Massaging my temples, I relieve some of the building pressure. I feel the frustration of being kept in the dark, which is beginning to chew away at my soul.
I jump to my feet as a harsh knock penetrates through the front door. With my eyes fixed on the figure underneath the door, I wait.
Two/Face wouldn’t knock…
He’d just fucking appear like the ghost he is, no this isn’t him, and it’s not Bhodi. He somehow managed to get in last night without warning. Whoever is standing on the other side of the door isn’t someone I have invited. Swallowing hard, I quickly realize.
Harry.
As my entire body deflates and the slow knocks continue, I cautiously step the door, making sure not to make any noise while I move closer to Harry. I freeze once I hear his voice taunting me through the door.
“Suuuuummmmeerrrrrr.” He sings eerily through the door. “The funeral is in a couple of days, my love; I’ll be seeing you real soon.” He sniggers, and I watch as the shadow moves away from the door.
A cold sweat falls over my skin, and my stomach twists and turns with how relentless Harry truly is. I know he wants revenge because I fled to New York. I know he is the reason Detective Strode is lying in a hospital bed. I don’t trust that he won’t cause trouble at the funeral; hell, I don’t even think he won’t try and hurt someone else.
Shit.
Pulling my phone from my purse, I unlock it. Scrolling through looking for Bhodi’s number, my finger hovers over the call button once it appears on the screen. I hesitate for a moment, unsure of what I’m meant to fucking say? I’ve never told him about Two/Face before or anything that’s happened between us, probably because it sounds fucking insane, and I’m crazy for allowing it to continue.
Plus, it would then open up Bhodi to whatever Two/Face is into, and I can’t have that. He’s right. This won’t end well. But if I stay away, that could ensure his safety. Throwing the phone back down onto the glass table in front of me, I allow my head to fall back onto the sofa. The silence in the apartment consuming me.
Chapter Seventeen
Two/face??
“Shit.” Jimmy’s muttering pulls my focus from the dive bar to him. Shooting him a questioning look, he sighs. Locking his phone and sliding it back into his pocket, he shakes his head. “Nothing, it’s fine.”
“If there’s a fucking problem, Jimmy. Just say it. I don’t have time for this shit.” I spit out, feeling impatient and already pissed off. I’m stuck out here in the freezing cold, picking up scum off the streets.
“Harry went to the apartment again. The alarm was triggered when he tried putting in an incorrect code, but don’t worry. She didn’t answer the door.”
My head snaps to his, the seething anger beginning to pulse through me.
“What the fuck did you just say?”
“Look, it’s fine, he left.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? He’s terrorizing her, yet we’re stuck here dealing with this shit.”
Jimmy turns to me, his usual calm demeanor changing in an instant. There’s a chill to his voice, the weight, and risk of what we do continuing to have a hold over him.
“No one fucking begged you to be here, Two, we each have our reasons, and I’ll be fucking damned if we let this piece of shit go home to his wife pissed and fucking rape her again.” He gestures towards the dive bar entrance.
“Look, I can hear all the shit you’re spouting from that van. Mind shutting the fuck up? Hard to concentrate when I have the nerd and the fucking cowboy complaining in my ear.” Axe chimes through the earpiece.
Jimmy shakes his head, letting out a small sarcastic chuckle as I turn my attention back towards the bar. The street outside is quiet. The occasional engine backfiring and feral dogs is all that can be heard this time of night. Lucky for us, this bar stays open all hours. It's not exactly a salubrious establishment, so it’s perfect to pick up this package.
“Just keep your eyes on the target, Axe.”
“Not hard. He’s been plowing through a bottle of Jack since seven. I’ll probably have to carry this fucking idiot out myself, that’s if he doesn’t start a fight beforehand.”
“If he does, just pull him out, like the good Samaritan you are.” I quip sarcastically.
“Pull him out by his fucking hair, maybe.” He mumbles back.
Ignoring Axe, I settle into my seat. Knowing full well this could carry on for hours, this is probably the worst part of each job. Especially now I know that cunt Harry is lurking around the apartment again. This clown is fucking relentless with Summer. Part of me wonders if he’s just torturing her because he can. He enjoys the terror he inflicts and the fear she feels whenever he’s nearby.
I smile silently, knowing that’s exactly what I’ve been doing. I had no intention of ever seeing Summer, but once I laid eyes on her, I just had to know her. I needed to meet her, speak to her, and listen to her voice. I had no idea why because this would never work. How could it? I’m a killer, and she’s the unfortunate collateral in her father’s murder.
