Getting Close
Darius
The office smelled like old leather, spilled whiskey, and the suffocating scent of my own goddamn failure. I stared at the map on my desk, but the ink just blurred into black smears.
My pulse was a f*****g jackhammer behind my eyes.
The door creaked. I didn’t look up. "If you don't have a name, Julian, you can go f**k yourself."
"I have something better," Julian’s voice was dry, like sandpaper rubbing against bone.
I snapped my head up. Julian stood there, looking like he’d been dragged through a hedge. He held his hand out, palm flat.
Lying in the center of his grime-crusted palm was a silver chain. A tiny, pathetic crescent moon pendant caught the dim lamplight, winking at me like a taunt.
My lungs seized. I didn't breathe or think. I just moved.
I ripped th
