Monsters, Matt Rogers [ereader for android .txt] 📗

‘She cool with that?’

Slater nodded. ‘Listen, Tyrell, we’ve got to talk specifics.’

Tyrell held up a hand. ‘I get it, man. I’m gone. I’ll go play Call of Duty, let y’all play it in real life.’

There was a smirk on his face as he retreated to his room, but underlying the humour was an element of truth none of them felt the need to address.

When they were alone in the kitchen, King lowered his voice, conspiratorial. ‘How do you want to approach this?’

‘I did some research on the gym. It’s legit. There’s no knowing how many of his fighters he’s corrupted, but it might be widespread. Might be systemic. You know as well as I do there’s a sacred relationship between coach and student. It’s evil to breach that. I’ve got no doubt that if Frankie’s persuasive, he’s worked that dark magic on a bunch of his disciples. If you’re a budding fighter and you’ve got a father figure telling you what’s right and what’s wrong, and you’re impressionable, you’ll do whatever he tells you to do. So I don’t think finding Frankie and taking him out straight away is the right call. That won’t solve the problem, as tempting as it is.’

King said, ‘You’re right. Everything about this makes me sick. I say we go for a slow burn. Integrate ourselves with the gym, find out who’s involved and who’s not, learn how it’s connected to Heidi and Vitality+. You never know. Heidi might be one client of many. It’s Silicon Valley, after all. Success is everything and I’d wager there’s a few business tycoons who’d do anything to keep themselves at the top.’

‘We know that already.’

They did. They’d seen the worst in people too many times to keep a running count. The demands of giant corporations often stripped those at the top of their humanity, created an invisible pendulum that bound them to results, whatever that entailed. Even if it meant intimidation, torture, murder. They seemed to think there was no point keeping your morality if you lost your reputation in the process.

Slim chance Heidi Waters was the only entrepreneur in Silicon Valley who’d lost their mind.

Slater said, ‘“Integrate ourselves with the gym.” What are you thinking?’

King said, ‘I’m thinking we show a little of our skill. Make ourselves indispensable.’

Slater smirked. ‘Funny. I was thinking the same thing.’

They spent nearly an hour forming a fluid game plan, with emphasis on “fluid.” Rigidity never worked in their field. They formulated a path, and they would do what they could to stick to it, but roadblocks were inevitable.

Nothing a little improvisation couldn’t fix.

Time ticked by and as darkness blanketed Winthrop Slater scooped up his packed bag. He went down the hall and stuck his head into Tyrell’s room. ‘I’ll see you soon.’

Tyrell looked up from his iPad. ‘You’d better.’

Slater thought about leaving it there, not making a big deal out of it, but at the last second he crossed the room and knelt by the bedside. Tyrell threw his arms around Slater’s bowling-ball shoulders and hugged tight.

Slater muttered, ‘You’re one of the best things that’s happened to me.’

‘“One of”?’ Tyrell muttered back, with a smirk. ‘Man, you the best for me. Without you, I ain’t shit.’

Slater stood up. ‘I didn’t do anything. I just showed you who you could be.’

He walked out.

20

Mary Böhm heard the knocking on her door, right on schedule, but couldn’t bring herself to believe it was real.

It followed the pattern she’d been told to listen out for, so that was something. It snapped her out of her trance, got her off the couch, but as soon as she was up the apartment felt hollow, empty, too big. In reality it was a shoebox. She knew that. But every square inch of window was now a potential line of sight. She saw the image clear as day — the glass spider-webbing then shattering, the bullet punching through into the living room, embedding itself in her chest. She wondered if she’d feel the pain or simply snap out of existence, unaware of what had been her final moments.

The knock sounded again. Same pattern.

She went down the hall, but answering it blindly didn’t seem prudent, even if the rhythm was what Alexis had told her to listen out for. She pressed her eye to the keyhole, then thought, They could just shoot through it, put a bullet through my eye. But it was too late to do anything about that, so she peered out and saw a woman standing there who looked very similar. Same eyes, same hair, same skin. There were subtle differences, more obvious when you really looked, but it was close enough.

She opened the door, everything tight, braced for some shocking twist, like that Alexis had been working for Heidi all along…

Alexis’ face was blank. ‘You look like you’re about to pass out. Breathe.’

Mary tried.

Any second could be her last. She figured, even if she survived this whole ordeal, the stress would take years off of her life regardless.

Alexis shook her head in frustration. ‘Let’s go inside. No use me standing out here all night.’

Mary tried to keep her tone level. ‘Were you followed?’

‘No. They’re not watching every entrance.’

‘You sure?’

‘Absolutely. No one saw me.’

‘Okay.’

‘Let me through.’

Mary stepped aside. When Alexis crossed the threshold, an unspeakable relief passed through her. Alexis hadn’t produced a gun from her leather jacket. Hadn’t slipped a knife from the belt holding her skin-tight jeans up. Of course not. She’d been telling the truth about flying civilian from Boston, and you couldn’t exactly smuggle a weapon through airport security, no matter how talented you were.

Mary followed Alexis meekly down the hall, like a trailing puppy dog. ‘Do you…do you have a gun?’

Alexis looked over her shoulder. ‘No. Why?’

‘What if—’

‘I picked up something else on the way here. It’ll do for now.’

‘What—?’

‘Not important. You need to breathe, Mary.’

Mary had been so focused on Alexis standing in her living room that she’d ignored the fact her vision was swimming. She planted