13
Vic and the kids had gone to the beach the next morning by the time Tom groaned out of bed. If anything, the bruising seemed to have worsened, to have gone deeper into his body.
He checked his mobile for the morning’s messages; a habit he hated in himself, making the damn phone his first priority ahead of kissing his kids or even using the bathroom. Normally there would be messages from overseas clients, new enquiries, or just his friends chiding him about the latest soccer results. But today, there was only one message from an unknown number.
Volunteer will meet Vlad. Come alone. Lobby of Four Seasons. two pm today.
The hair on the back of his neck prickled. Perhaps it’s a wrong number, he thought, like the time someone named Justin had texted inviting him to his apartment for a 2:
