Chapter 717
Chapter 717:
Stay away from the fire.
Skye traced the soot-stained edge of the card. It wasn’t a threat. It was a warning. He was going deeper, and he didn’t want her to follow.
Meanwhile, at the precinct holding cells.
Parker Hayes was lying on his bunk, staring at the ceiling. His stomach grumbled loudly. He had declared a hunger strike three hours ago to protest the lack of Wi-Fi.
“Guard!” Parker yelled. “I’m fading! I need sustenance! And a LAN cable p>
The cell door buzzed open.
Felix walked in. He was holding a flat cardboard box. The smell of pepperoni and extra cheese filled the small cell.
“Oh, sweet mother of carbs,” Parker moaned, sitting up.
“From the Boss,” Felix said, setting the pizza down on the metal bench. “He said you need your strength for the arraignment p>
Parker opened the box and shoved a slice into his mouth. “Liam is a saint. A scary, violent saint. Tell him I’m coding the decryption key for the diary in my head. I just need a laptop p>
“Eat first,” Felix said, looking at the kid with pity. He knew what Parker didn’t—that the wheels of justice were turning in strange directions, and Liam had plans for Parker that didn’t involve a cell.
That evening, Skye’s phone rang.
Kensington, the caller ID read.
She picked up. “What now p>
“Come to the beach house,” Liam’s voice was low, slurring slightly. “Tonight. Alone p>
“Divorce settlement,” Liam said. “There’s an addendum. About the shares. If you want the controlling interest in the media arm… you need to sign this tonight p>
Skye hesitated. The beach house. Their old sanctuary. The place where they had spent their honeymoon, before everything went wrong.
“I’ll be there in an hour,” she said.
ո𝘰 𝗉𝗂𝘳𝘢сy 𝗿𝗲а𝖽 𝗈n 𝖻𝘦.𝘤𝘰m
She drove down the coast highway, the ocean churning black and angry to her right. The beach house stood on a cliff, isolated and dark.
She parked and walked to the door. It was unlocked.
Inside, the only light came from the fireplace. The flames cast long, dancing shadows on the walls.
In the center of the room, a table was set. Fine china. Crystal glasses filled with dark red wine. A perfectly cooked steak sat on each plate, cold and untouched.
Liam sat at the head of the table. He was still wearing his dirty tactical vest from yesterday, but he’d thrown a tuxedo jacket over it. The contrast was jarring.
He was holding a steak knife. He wasn’t cutting the meat. He was dragging the tip of the blade across the expensive porcelain plate.
Scritch. Scritch. Scritch.
He looked up as she entered. His eyes were bloodshot. He smiled, and it was the saddest, most terrifying thing she had ever seen.
“Welcome home, darling,” he whispered. “Dinner is served p>
Skye didn’t sit. She stood by the door, her hand gripping the strap of her purse where her taser was hidden.