The Fall(33)

Though in this part of town most people were doing their own thing, too busy being concerned about their bottom line and keeping their businesses afloat to worry about little old me. Which is why I preferred being here to my actual house. Less eyes on me and I could keep shit locked up tight. With barely any windows and only two doors to man, it was the perfect place to get off the grid. Not to mention store my own personal arsenal.

The computer system was also state-of-the-art, my collection of man-toys almost identical to what I had back at the Brownstone. Truth be told, the house I lived in was purely for appearances; it was here that I felt the most relaxed.

The warehouse was isolated, away from neighborhoods. I liked when I walked outside there wasn’t the need to pretend. No one wanted small talk or looking to see if my lawn was trimmed. And apart from the lack of attention, this place felt closer to what I was used to—what I’d had for years before I’d been able to afford more. The additional comforts that the house provided just made it more of a charade. I couldn’t let my guard down there, but here, it was a different story.

And while I preferred to spend my time pounding someone’s face for having to ditch my ride and being shot at, it seemed like the keyboard was going to be the better option. At least for tonight, or morning, as the case was.

Unfortunately, there was no who’s-trying-to-kill-me Google search, so I had to once again enlist the help of my Ivy League quarterbacks. They were getting more of my green than I’d like to part with, but I also preferred to have the upper hand, and information always came at a price. Be it in money or blood.

Sofia had either done us both a favor and listened without arguing or was too tired to give me the attitude I’d come to expect. Whatever her reason, she had disappeared into the bedroom space I had tucked away in the back. Good thing too; I could tell that while she’d kept her shit together, she wasn’t all cool with the way things had gone down.

People rarely impressed me; I kept my expectations low and even still, in most instances, I still shook my head at the level of stupidity I dealt with. It had been a while since there’d been anyone worth raising an eyebrow over. Sofia was the exception.

It hadn’t been just tonight; the whole ordeal had me silently giving her a nod of respect. If she was going to make it out of this somehow intact, she was going to have to dial into whatever shit kept her from falling apart. She wasn’t working the beat anymore, and looking into lowlifes behind a computer screen and having one at the end of your nine were two different things.

Speaking of people behind computer screens, it was going to take a while before the Abercrombie and Fitch posse came back with anything useful, so I decided to take some of my own advice and get some sleep.

Of course, at the house I’d crashed in one of the other two rooms, no sweat and no drama. But the warehouse wasn’t geared for entertaining, i.e. there were no additional rooms. And while the idea of sleeping next to anyone made me want to peel my skin layer by layer, I sure as shit wasn’t sleeping on the floor.

Leaving the computers to do their thing, I pushed away from my desk that was conveniently located behind the living space. Then it was just a few steps back around the drywall box I’d constructed and I was at the door.

Before heading in, my hand pulled open the front panel of the black box along the wall and my fingers got busy. I armed the security system on the outer perimeter and made sure all the sensors along the building were on. While I was happy to catch a few Z’s, I wasn’t leaving any of this shit to chance. And the way I had this place wired, even if a bird took a shit on the roof, I was going to know.

Then without thinking too much more about it, I yanked open the door and stepped inside. If Sofia had been sleeping, she was wide awake now.

“What are you doing?” Her head lifted off the pillow, her eyes peeled back in a sort of panic.

“What’s it look like I’m doing?” I pulled my shirt over my head as I toed off my boots. “It’s been a long night and I need a few hours.” My fingers hit the button and fly of my jeans as I let them hit the floor too.

“Whoa, you’re gonna sleep here?” Her voice wavered a little as she hitched up the blankets closer to her chest, like the f*cking bedding was made out of some f*cking force field. “With me?”

“You see a guest room?” And I wasn’t asking for permission, my hand lifting the comforter on the side of the bed closest to me. “Relax, I’m here to sleep. I thought we already established I wasn’t interested in f*cking you.” My ass hit the mattress, sliding in and laying down before she’d had a chance to respond.

“I wasn’t insinuating you wanted to f*ck me, I just really prefer to sleep on my own,” she mumbled in the dark, my eyes already closed as I tried to ignore her.

“Well, you’re shit out of luck then.” I kept my eyes closed, hoping she’d take the hint and knock off the noise so we both could get some sleep.

I’d never been entirely comfortable sleeping—too vulnerable—opened you right up to bad things. But I hadn’t managed to find a reliable way of getting around the bodily need. Sure, there were drugs I could take. Cokeheads could stay awake for days at a time, but it was also hard to run a reliable business when you were snorting Colombian candy.

“Are we going to be here awhile?”

Surprise, surprise she had a question. Seriously, I’m not sure why I assumed she’d just go to f*cking sleep.