NICHOLAS
The incident passed in a haze, I bet she was starting to rethink her decision about this whole thing. My grip on the steering wheel, tight enough that my knuckles grew white.
I stopped outside a suburban house, the kind with a manicured lawn and two-car garage, the lights still glowing behind the blinds. Too perfect. Too clean.
I stayed across the street, watching from the shadows.
Chains was a ghost. No trails, no patterns. But Danny managed to dig up a name. Thomas Dickson. The last known contact. Accountant by day, apparently a little less boring by night.
I exhaled hard and rubbed a hand down my face. I needed a shower. Hell, I needed sleep. Preferably both with Emily, though I knew she’d rather stab me with a fork than share a damn bathroom.
I had to apologize. That t
