Chapter 44
The stench of sweat, bleach, and overcooked meat lingered heavy in the air. Lunchtime in the Blacklist site was chaos with order—a crude system of territory, tension, and trembling silence broken only by clattering trays and barked commands. Quinn stood by one of the overfilled trash bins, posture casual, arms crossed, a paper-stiff expression across his face. But his eyes… they never stopped moving. More specifically, they never stopped watching her. Sasha moved through the lunch line with calm efficiency, collecting her tray like she’d done it a thousand times before. She didn’t look his way, didn’t flinch. But Quinn knew she knew he was there. He could feel the tension radiating off her like coiled wire. She looked like a predator dressed in skin. She found an open seat toward the
- Writer
