Blank Slate

Chapter 129 - Payton Taylor

I had no idea how to respond to Christopher's vow never to hurt me, and after staring into his eyes for a stupidly long time, I sort of just looked down at the camera screen in my lap. Was I supposed to promise never to hurt him in return? I had made a general vow not to be one of the bad guys and not hurt anyone else after my testimony had sent the majority of The Family behind bars, but I had come precariously close to killing those loan sharks that had come after Flynn in Dubai. I had also been preparing to fight my way out of Rashid's office, knowing that I would most likely have to take both him and his bodyguard down to accomplish that feat.

I was a survivor. Plain and simple. When nothing was coming at me, I had all of these grand notions of what I would refuse to do and how I would rather die than become what I had been when Luca controlled me. But the truth was that I had always been a fighter. I wanted to live. I wanted to protect myself and the people that I now cared about. If someone were to come at Oliver or Evie, I would do literally anything to save them. I would do evil things for them if they needed it from me and I didn't know how to reconcile that fact with who I was trying to be.

Before I could think of something to say into the thickening silence, Cross's heat signature on the screen got up from the table and started getting ready to leave. I focused on the mission and told Christopher, "You tail Cross and let me know if he is heading back in this direction. I am going to search his house."

"Yeah, there is no way I am leaving you here without any backup," Christopher said matter-of-factly and started messing with his phone. Then before I argue that it was important that we kept an eye on Cross, he was out of the car and casually walking down the street looking like he was just out for a midday stroll. When he was parallel with Cross's car, he stopped to tie his shoe and then stood and continued to walk in the same direction. What in the world was he doing? I questioned as I tried to both watch for where Christopher was walking and what Cross was doing inside of his house.

Moments after Christopher reached the corner and turned left, Cross walked out of his front door. He searched his surroundings, clearly alert to his environment, and then made his way to his car with a slow, slightly forced gait - as if he was in pain. He got into the driver's seat just as slowly and then after a moment, his car pulled away. I had lost my visual on Christopher and wondered if he was going to break into the house and assumed I would tail Cross. I was just considering moving to the driver's seat before I totally lost Cross when the door opened and Christopher got back into the car.

"What -" I started to say but Christopher silenced me with a cocky-looking smile.

"Can I see your phone?" he asked and I hesitated for only a moment before handing the burner phone I was currently using over to him. He started clicking on buttons while he explained, "Parents are completely insane these days and there is this app that you can download on your child's phone so that you can track their location at all times. I downloaded the app onto my phone. Almost as good as a legit GPS tracking device. Here. See?"

He handed me back the phone and I saw a blinking red dot on a map that indicated Cross was driving south on the main highway through town. I was impressed but quickly got over my initial shock and started moving. We didn't know how long Cross was going to be out or what we were going to find within his house. Weirdly, Cross didn't have a home security system or any cameras. The only thing that we had to bypass was a totally normal deadbolt. I would have thought that an ex-CIA analyst and current Whistler agent would have more home security in place. My bank was wired up so I would know if a mouse decided to take up resistance in my new home.

Inside we found a completely normal, if not barren, house. His furniture was old but well cared for. The rooms were clean but not obsessively so. The food in the fridge was a mix of fresh foods and frozen dinners. Even his computer was a normal Dell desktop that you would find in thousands of homes across the world. Not even any upgrades to the video card, hard drives, or ram. The walls were decorated with unremarkable art, and there were no photos identifying people that he was particularly close.