The Fall(13)

He hesitated, seeming to field some internal debate on whether or not to tell me. From the display I’d seen earlier, social skills probably weren’t his forte, so it was no wonder he had yet to introduce himself. That, and I’m sure the less anyone knew about him the better.

“Michael.”

One word.

That’s all he gave me, the full stop to my endless questions. And for now, just knowing his name would have to be enough.

Michael.

We drove the rest of the way in silence to the Far West Side, the Camaro easing off the road into a back laneway and pulling up to an old red brick garage. The structure separated from the main house.

While the building might have been old, it had been updated with an electric roller door, its metal panels lifting with the touch of a button. The remote I’d missed Michael retrieving from the console—my eyes too busy scoping out my surroundings—was tossed back as we entered the dark garage. The door rolled back down behind us as the car submitted to stop with the turn of a key.

Keeping to form, there was no announcement of where we were. Or if this was our final destination. I didn’t even know if I was supposed to be getting out of the car except he had already opened his door, and I’d be damned if I was sitting in a dark garage with no way to see what was coming.

“Are we staying?” I grabbed the bag at my feet—the one with my extra ammo, gun—and palmed my nine. The overnight bag that was packed with everything else could stay on the backseat for now. A change of clothes was the least of my problems.

Michael didn’t answer—shocking, I know—shutting the driver’s side door; the thud shaking the body of the car slightly as I exited from my side of the vehicle.

We crossed the dark backyard, the backdoor of the house visible. It looked to be an old rundown Brownstone, the moonlight illuminating the brick double story.

“Is this your place?”

I’m not sure why I persisted. It was obvious getting details from Michael was like extracting blood from a stone, but it made me feel better. And considering I still had no idea what I was dealing with, I was all about making myself feel better.

“Yes. Get inside.” Michael inserted the key and pushed open the door.

I didn’t do well with orders, my father could attest to that.

“Look, you need to start giving me some answers.” I hesitated in the doorway, the darkness of the house doing little to invite me in.

His eyes narrowed, doing a quick scan of the area before pushing me into the dark entrance. I’d barely had time to react, my feet stumbling as he followed me through and shut the door behind us.

He didn’t reach for the light, just stood there in silent darkness as my eyes blinked trying to adjust.

“I don’t give anyone answers.” The words fell from his lips, each one weighted with a slight pause between. “And if you have any self-preservation at all, you’ll stop asking.”

The door wasn’t locked, instead he walked away leaving me standing uncertain in the hallway. His heavy footsteps taking him away as his boots echoed on the wooden floors.

I could run.

The idea bounced through my mind as I reminded myself I was unrestrained, armed and right near an escape route. Despite feeling out of control, he hadn’t kidnapped me. I was here of my own free will, even if I was questioning my sanity. Even if what he was saying was true, I had resources at the Chicago PD that should be able to keep me safe. There had to be other options. Ones that didn’t have me questioning the character of my company, or making me feel like I was on the wrong side of the law.

My hand went to the doorknob; my fingers gripping it tight as I twisted and felt the lock pop open. Was it some kind of trap? Did he want me to run? None of this made sense.

I pulled open the door, the cool air of the night hitting my skin as I peered out into the backyard we’d just walked through. The trees gently blew in the breeze as I stared out into space, my mind unresolved about what I was doing and why.

This wasn’t like me; I always had a plan. But as I stood there silent, my feet undecided on whether to step forward or backward, I drew a complete blank. I had no idea what I should do or who I should trust.

“You would have left already.” His hot breath tickled the back of my neck, his approach so quiet I couldn’t be sure he hadn’t appeared from thin air. “Close the door, Sofia and come inside.”

He didn’t yell nor did he sound angry, his voice kept low and steady. He didn’t reach for me either, his body so close but not even his hands touched mine. Nothing, just his looming presence at my back holding me like an invisible shackle.

He was right.

If I were leaving, I would have gone already.

“Okay.” I turned around; my fate feeling like it was slipping from my fingers. “What’s the plan?”





My instructions were to get her, keep her safe and sit tight.

Not as effortless as it sounded.

It would have been easier to knock her out, tie her to a chair and lock her in a room. And as long as she wasn’t hurt, Jimmy wouldn’t question my methods. He had to have known she wouldn’t come quietly.

Ironically, I had managed to get her to do exactly what I wanted without resulting to my old bag of tricks. It was either curiosity or fear that motivated her, and I hadn’t worked out which.