Page 25 of You Were Warned: Part One

“Wow, you make escape look really fucking boring,” I mutter.

He takes another fifteen minutes before actually leaving, and I give him more time to get a false sense of security. I need that drive and have absolutely no fucking idea where it is, which is becoming irritating. After almost three weeks watching him, there’s still no sign of it. I know where he gets his coffee, which route he takes, how he checks over his shoulder, down to what time he showers. But the drive is gone.

I have searched everywhere I can think of, watched footage until I felt like my eyes would bleed, hoping to find one clue to where Jensen fucking Layne hid the thing, but nothing. Unfortunately, I need it before I can finish the job. I don’t know how I let this guy get in my head—no, actually I do. It’s because he is a normal guy, and I let my emotions cloud my judgment. I let myself think of him as a good guy, and on the surface he is, but fuck, this is also a guy who acquired a kidney on the black market. I know how they get those kidneys, and the donors are not always dead when the organs are collected. He is not a good person, but it fucks with my head because I don’t perceive myself as a bad person. Maybe I need to reevaluate that and come to terms with the fact that I’m not a good person either. I need to focus; this isn’t about me.

I need the drive to get my payment. It was supposed to be simple, except Jensen has been making something simple increasingly fucking difficult, so I left the cell unlocked.

The island at night is the perfect place to instill fear, to get him to run. When people are scared, they make impulsive choices, and hopefully his will lead me straight to what I need.

I watch the feeds with Crow sitting silently beside me after I told him Jensen is my current toy who I plan to stalk. He just shrugged, but now he points out the camera at the end of the residential area as Jensen walks past. I scratch my head because this guy is an enigma. Why the fuck is he not running since he is free? I thank Crow and head toward the path he is taking. He won’t beat me; I know this island like the back of my hand.

As expected, I find him easily, walking with his head down, but when he realizes that there are people everywhere, he straightens and checks his surroundings. If he were to run, he would be chased. When he reaches the maze, I grin. He really shouldn’t go in there. He hesitates and turns to take the path beside it when a group of people race his way. Jensen doesn’t know, but the path he takes won’t lead him where he wants to go; he is doubling back to where he came from, just approaching from the opposite side.

He doesn’t make it far before a staff member spots him; the guy is dressed like a mummy and carries a prop ax that is almost as tall as him. He takes one look at Jensen, who must hear him because he looks up, and the mummy charges. This makes Jensen run, and I laugh at the look of terror on his face. See? An enigma. He has kept calm for weeks, knowing he was being followed and not showing this much fear, and yet an actor with a plastic prop ax scares him.

Jensen bolts away, heading further in the wrong direction. The actor follows, hot on his tail, while yelling something I can’t hear over the screams coming from the attractions.

The actor drops off when his zone ends, and Jensen realizes. He slows down to a walk, catching his breath and checking the nearest sign for directions, not that they are designed to help you.

He continues walking, and I remain in the shadows. He doesn’t realize he is heading back to the residential area, and maybe I should redirect him, but I don’t. This is more entertaining right now, watching the panic on his face. When he reaches the edge of the residential area, it must dawn on him where he is, and he grumbles, “Fuck.” He stops and hesitates, about to turn around.

“Good boy, lead me to the prize.”

But he doesn’t move. Then I realize he is staring at Vesper’s house, and my hands tighten into fists. He moves toward her house, and I wonder what he is doing—flash drive be damned, fucking with what’s mine is a sure way to die. Fuck the money, I will take another job. I would have so much more pleasure dissecting him piece by piece while he’s still alive.

I inch closer, ready to attack when he crouches down, and I stop. As he lifts his hand, a shiver runs down my spine; he is holding one of her spiders. “What the fuck? You escape, get chased, know your days are numbered, and yet you stop to pick up a spider?”

He moves up onto her front porch and sits, looking down at his hand. Of course, the spider has deemed him trustworthy. Fucking hell, this guy will be the death of me.

“Who the fuck are you?”

I freeze. No, she can’t be here right now. Apparently, the universe woke up today and decided I hadn’t been tested enough. I listen as they exchange words.

Jensen doesn’t seem alarmed by Vesper, and really that is his first mistake; she is a lot like a spider.

I move closer, keeping myself hidden. After a few minutes she opens her door. He hesitates, and for one beautiful second, I think he may have developed survival instincts. But I thought wrong, because he steps inside behind her. She never lets me inside her house.

I sneak around the back and find them in the kitchen, watching how closely they sit. Objectively, it’s not close, but I don’t give a fuck. My fingers close around the knife I keep hidden in the waistband of my suit. He is inside the house of the love of my life, my soulmate.

I watch them but can’t hear a thing. They sit and talk, and after a while she stands and vanishes. When she comes back, she is holding a blanket and pillow— Oh, fuck no! She is letting him stay.

I turn the knife between my fingers. If I doubted Jensen’s need to die before this, he just cemented his death. But if I snuck in and ended him in her house, Vesper would never forgive me, and I couldn’t live with that. No, I will stick to the original plan: get the drive first, but then his death will be a lot more painful than I originally planned. He almost has me wanting to make it quick, but now I will draw it out. He will beg me for death, and I won’t allow him that pleasure. I will make sure he knows nobody gets to touch what’s mine and then gets to have a peaceful death.

I’m irritated to say the least. Scenarios run through my head; I can’t drag him out, or put a knife through him while he’s here, and it would be impossible to haul him out kicking and screaming without drawing an audience. I promised Nixie after the Rowan situation that I would not bring my work back to the island, and I never planned to again. I also didn’t plan for Jensen to swallow a bottle of pills either.

Vesper is mine. If he thinks he is safe, I will let him believe in that false sense of security. It is a good way to get things done. But the second I have the chance, his ass is back in his cell, and I will not make the mistake of opening it again. Now I will do things my way.

Fuck! Pain in my hand registers—the blade has sliced through my skin. I put the knife away and let my blood drip onto the ground.

I’m fine, everything is fucking wonderful. I turn toward home. Tomorrow I will find out what she plans to do with him. This is Vesper, and I know my woman. She doesn’t do something for nothing—she is not that nice. She hates people, or more specifically, people like Jensen. My eye twitches thinking about him. “Fuck you, Jensen.”

I walk the two houses down to my house, though since my new house is next door to my old place and the cells are in the current empty house, moving in there will be convenient. There is a decent-sized space between the houses. It’s big enough that there could be two new houses built between them. I clean my hand and make my way to bed, where I lie down on the covers and stare at the ceiling.

By two in the morning, I’m still staring into space. I realize what this feeling is: jealousy. I’m fucking jealous, which makes me laugh because it’s fucking hilarious.

By the time six comes around, I get out of bed. It’s earlier than I need to be up, but it’s not like I can sleep. I make a coffee and set it on the table to cool while I go outside to check on my tomatoes. I water them and then look over the herbs that have started to sprout. The wind chimes on the balcony sway in the breeze but make no sound. I took the clapper out not long after I hung it; I prefer silence to noise I can’t control.

Once I have finished tending to the garden, I head back inside and drink my coffee, passing time until I know Vesper will be awake. I had time to think and know she is up to something. She has to be; it’s the only explanation I can come up with. More specifically, I think she is trying to make me jealous, and it’s working. Well, two can play that game.