Unexpected | Simon Minter | Miniminter

Chapter Three

"Ma'am, we're ready for you."

I stood, smoothing the wrinkles out of my skirt. The guard's hand rested on the gun strapped to his hip, a silent challenge, but nerves didn't set in until I met his gaze—cold, unforgiving, yet familiar.

"He's been expecting you," he huffed as he led me down an empty corridor.

Remaining silent, I caught a glimpse of his badge: J. Smith.

Common. Generic. Forgettable.

Exactly how we were taught.

My eyes settled on his profile, on the discomfort in his features. The uniform could only hide so much. His identity in this life was a lie compared to the one I knew well five years ago.

"I couldn't bring myself to see him," I finally whispered.

"Better now than never." He paused in front of a metal door with a keycard lock. As he swiped a thin card over the scanner, he leaned in close to my ear. "Speak quietly and the microphones won't pick up the conversation. Knock on the door when you're done."

"Thank you, Neal."

He nodded once then turned his back to me.

I took a sharp breath then stepped into a small room with no natural light. It resembled a prison cell, save for the table in the center with a clear divider in the middle.

As soon as I took a seat, the door on the other side of the divider swung open, two cops emerging with a prisoner between them, his hands bound by metal cuffs. One officer cast him a pointed look before removing the cuffs and roughly placing him into the chair.

My hand shook as it reached for the landline, struggling to find a grip on the handle of the phone.

His face didn't change when he lifted his own phone to his ear, seemingly disinterested in my presence.

"Hi," I choked out, shattering the silence. My stomach curled as I waited for a reply, threatening to bring up the only food I had that morning.

"You finally made it." His eyes traveled to every corner of my face, examining me. "What's changed?"

"Someone's been following me," I blurted, barely above a whisper.

Father's eyes hardened, nostrils flaring. "Quiet. I trust Neal told you we're being monitored."

I nodded.

"So, keep your fear in check."

"I'm not afraid—"

"It's written on your face, Raelyn."

The sound of my given name was foreign to my ears.

I tugged on the skirt of my dress, fitting the fabric between my fingers. "I think he's found me."

Father leaned back in his chair, staring straight through me. "You've seen him then?"

"I've seen figures lurking in the shadows."

Chills rippled through my body at the memory of last night. They were close enough, no doubt, but they relished in the torture and manipulation of their victims. Glory of the kill only satisfied so much.

"What do you plan on doing?"

My free hand threaded into my hair, pulling a section over my face. "I don't know. If he's really found me, then I can't escape him again."

He lowered his head, hand clenched on the table in front of him. "Your brother can help you."

I forced myself to breathe in, blinking in surprise. "I haven't seen him since that night. He's gone, and—"