Greyson
Even though it was nearing three in the morning, my mind was sharp as I tried to make heads or tails of the information I'd received from Maxwell Tiller. I wasn't even conscious of the black box I was riding in until the SUV came to a stop. When X opened my door, I was where I'd been nearly three hours earlier, back in the alleyway behind The Wasteland.
X handed me a plastic bag containing my gun, knife, and cell phone.
“Thanks," I said out of habit, a leftover response from when I lived in a world with manners.
X merely nodded as he got back into the SUV. Before I could even turn toward the step, the SUV drove away, its taillights disappearing as it turned right at the end of the alleyway.
After slipping my gun into its holster, my knife in my ankle strap, and my phone in
