The Dollmaker(The Forgotten Files #2)(2)

Nerves fired with worry as he reminded himself Jimmy had promised the exchange would be easy. No questions.

Grab and go. Easy money.

He grabbed the burner and texted Stephanie, Terrance, again. My ride is here, I hope.



Who? Where are you?



In the city. White van here. Got to go.



Shoving the phone in his pocket, he stood straighter, heart pounding, his mind skipping beyond the next few minutes to the money he’d make. $2,000. Pocket change to famous singers, but it was a damn fortune to him. He’d already decided to buy his girl the necklace she liked. And put money toward a dryer for his grandmother so she didn’t have to use the clothesline this winter.

The driver cut his headlights but kept the engine running as he stepped out of the car. Moonlight silhouetted the man’s large frame. The stranger wore a hoodie and kept his head tilted down so shadows cloaked his face. Maybe that was for the best. No questions.

Just a little bit longer, and it would be over. He’d take the money and never look back.

Terrance held up the bag. “I have a delivery for you.”

The driver didn’t speak for a moment, then he moved forward, gravel crunching under his boot as he stepped into the alley.

The stranger didn’t speak for what felt like forever before he reached in his jacket pocket. “Where’s Jimmy?”

“Sick,” Terrance lied, like Jimmy had told him.

For a moment the stranger stood still as stone. “Jimmy didn’t contact me,” he barely whispered.

“Said it was safer not to. Less said, the better.”

A weighty silence lingered between them before the stranger spoke again. “Let me see in the bag.”

“Do you have the money?”

The man pulled his hand from his pocket, a thick wad of bills clutched in his long fingers.

With trembling hands, Terrance untangled the hurriedly tied knot. He opened the bag so the man could see inside.

Approaching slowly, the man looked and nodded. He held out the roll of bills with one hand as he reached for the bag with the other. Eyeing the stranger, Terrance took the money and shoved it in his pocket. As much as he wanted to count it, he had no idea what he’d do if it were short.

The man turned, and for an instant, moonlight illuminated the side of his face. Terrance froze, transfixed as a memory elbowed free. Before he could rein in the question, he asked, “Hey, man. Do I know you?”

The buyer paused but didn’t look up. A grin washed over stony features. “Do you?”

Don’t talk. Grab and go. “Sure. Seen you around our town.”

The man clutched the bag tighter. “That so?”

“No worries, dude. I’m no snitch,” Terrance said, mustering false bravado. “As far as I’m concerned, this never happened.”

“No, it did not.”

Terrance patted the money in his pocket. “We’re good. That’s it?”

“Yeah. That’s it.”

Terrance stepped to the side, expecting to walk past the man and out of the alley. As he passed, the guy asked, “Your name is Terrance, right?”

Hearing his name sent a chill down his back. He didn’t want anyone knowing he was here either. Shit. If his grandmother found out, she’d go nuts. And fuck, he was due to hear any day about the scholarship. He should have kept his mouth shut.

Terrance halted midstep. “Hey, man, I said I wouldn’t tell.”

“I know.” He smiled.

Terrance’s nerves eased.

The man moved with the blinding swiftness of a snake. Moonlight glinted briefly on a knife blade before he jabbed the sharp tip into Terrance’s belly and twisted hard, then removed the cold metal quickly before stepping back. Terrance staggered. For a moment, he was stunned and simply stared at the hole in his jacket. Shit. A hole in his jacket.

With trembling fingers, he unzipped it to find a bloodstain blooming and growing wetter and warmer across his belly with each beat of his heart.

Terrance touched his stomach and pressed. Wincing, he studied his crimson-stained fingertips as if they belonged to someone else. Blood gushed from his gut. His head spun, and he dropped to his hands and knees. His fingers dug into the gritty cobblestones lining the alley.

Terrance looked up at the guy. “I said I wouldn’t tell.”

Long fingers clung to the blood-tipped knife. “I know, kid.”

Terrance’s body twitched. The heat raced from his limbs toward his torso. Somehow, he knew he was dying.

Carefully, the man knelt and slowly wiped the blade on his own pant leg before sheathing the weapon in a holster on his belt. Gently, he lowered Terrance to the ground.

“It’ll be over soon. Close your eyes, Terrance. It’s like going to sleep.”

Terrance gripped the man’s arm, his fingernails biting. “I don’t want to die.”

“We all die, kid.”

He could feel his heart pumping hard, struggling now. “Not me. Not now.”

“Death isn’t terrible. Death is stillness. It’s peace. I’ll pray for you.”

Terrance tried to sit up, but his body wasn’t responding any longer. His skin had turned icy cold. He had no choice but to lie there listening to his killer’s whispered prayers. He thought about his grandmother. His girlfriend.