The Fall [2]

Thirteen

❝ stockholm syndrome ❞

With a click, the safety of his gun goes on, and the Gecko begins to reload his revolver. He could do it with his eyes closed ― hell, he could take the whole fucking thing apart and then together again in his sleep if he wanted to. Wasn't it for his demanding father, he wouldn't even be able to hold the goddamn gun right, let alone know anything about its anatomy. At least something the old man taught him right.

He's deep in thoughts, with the water from the shower running in the background. Amber has locked herself inside there ten minutes ago when they got to their room, and hasn't even told him where she's been at the mercado while he got his tattoo. He's looking up to the bathroom door as he thinks of her, and stops in his action for a moment.

However, the moment is fleeting, as he hears the lock on their entrance door suddenly click.

By reflex, Seth releases the safety catch from his gun and points it at the person entering the room.

With narrowed eyes, he spots the importunate night manager, a stack of new towels in his arms. As he sees the barrel grinning into his face, he stops in his tracks.

"Señor!"

He seems surprised.

"I'm sorry, I bring these for Miss Amber." The night manager explains quickly from fear, pointing to the towels in his hands before nervously scanning the dark room for the girl. But she's nowhere around. Instead, all the lights are off, and in the shadows of the shatters stands a man packed with muscles that looks like he'll knock the manager's lights out.

"Miss Amber is not here," Seth spits, not putting down his gun. He finds himself extremely irritated at the fact that this guy got the guts to show up at their door again and even enter without permission. What if Seth hadn't been here?

"Then I'll come back later―" He turns around to go, but Seth is faster.

That bastard will come back with another pretext very soon. Oh no, he won't get away that easily.

"Why are you so interested in her?"

The Gecko's voice leaves no room for argument as he narrows his eyes at the man ― he has a sinister suspicion crawling up his spine, and to get rid of the problem now would save him a lot of future worry.

"Answer the question."

"She likes extra towels for her hair." The night manager responds with an unsteady smile, before slowly putting down the towels on the drawer, but to Seth it's all provocation.