Chapter Sixty-Two
Blade’s pov
The air near the county line was thick with the smell of wet earth and decay. My contact had been right. Marcus was huddled in a rusted, rotting trailer hidden behind a curtain of overgrown pine trees. I didn't bother with a knock; I slammed my boot into the center of the door, and the wood splintered with a deafening c***k. Marcus jumped up from a stained mattress, his hands scrambling toward a handgun on the floor, but I was faster. I lunged across the small, cramped space and slammed him against the peeling wallpaper, my forearm pinning his throat against the wood.
“You were supposed to stay dead,” I snarled, my voice low and vibrating with pure rage. “I gave you a clean slate, and you’re still twitching like a loose thread.”
Marcus’s face turned a shad
