In to Her

Which is stupid, I realize. Because she’s not gonna live long anyway.

Maybe I should just let her stay out here? Fall asleep drunk and freeze to death?

That would be a nice way to go. Both for her and for me. No mess. No questions. No body disposal. I think I might do that—for both my targets, actually.

But then she drops something over the side of the railing and leans over—far over—to look at it.

I walk up behind her and look over too. “What was that?”

I can’t see, even when I shine my light down, because whatever it was, it’s disappeared into a tall snow drift.

“My end,” she says.

“What?” I laugh. What the hell is she talking about? “Come on,” I say, grabbing her shoulders and turning her around. Her fucking tits are still hanging out of her bra. What is your deal, chick? She cannot be that drunk.

“Let’s go back inside,” I say.

Because we still have a drawer filled with kink to explore before I let you die of hypothermia.

Chapter Seven – AJ

The building out back is massive and this chick is full of surprises.

Inside Yvette has a beat-up old Corolla, a beat-up old Jeep, a snowcat, a tractor, an empty chicken coop, two horse stalls—also empty—and a gym.

It’s a pretty nice gym, and even though there’s no power and it’s about ten degrees inside this place, for a moment I consider taking a turn on the bag hanging from the ceiling.

Generator, I remind the squirrel inside me. Gotta find the generator.

It’s in a little room in the front of the building with a big window looking out at the house. There’s also a fully-stocked workshop. I’m talking shit I’d have in my outbuilding workshop if I ever manage to acquire an outbuilding workshop. There’s even a floor lift for a car.

I just shake my head.

But then I wonder… does she have a boyfriend?

We didn’t see a boyfriend since we’ve been watching her. But that doesn’t mean much. He could be in the military. Or one of those oil rig workers who live on rigs in the ocean. Or a scientist down in Antarctica.

But none of that is likely.

So what is the deal with this place? It doesn’t make sense.

She doesn’t make sense either.

I get who she is to Damon and why he wants her dead. She ran away and took something valuable. So this secret mission to get rid of her makes some sense. But not a lot.

I didn’t know Yvette before Logan and I got this job. Never even met her. I just know Damon married her while she was in high school.

Which is pretty weird, but then again, not so weird when you’re in a crime family, I guess.

Still, I don’t get it. Why not just leave her alone? So she took something. Maybe money, maybe information, a car? I dunno what she took. Logan’s in charge of the recovery mission.

The only way this makes sense is that Damon’s a jealous asshole. He’s one of those guys who figures, If I can’t have her, no one can. Because the dude’s got plenty of dirty money. She can’t know too much about his business or he’d already be in jail. She’s been gone for almost three years, so even if she did know too much, she’s not sharing that with anyone. And no one loves a beat-up old Corolla or a beat-up old Jeep that much, right?

“Not your job, AJ. So who gives a fuck?”

On to the generator. She says she’s never turned it on but that makes no sense either. Surely this place loses power enough that she’d want to do that. And it’s one of those generators that has a fucking switch, for Christ’s sake. There is no rolling a dolly out and hooking it up to the electrical box. It’s a massive, whole-house generator, firmly affixed to a concrete pad, that requires two seconds to turn on.

And she has fuel. Not only is there fuel in it, but bright-blue barrels of diesel sit off to the side. Like whoever set this up was preparing for Armageddon.

So again, I have to ask myself, who is this chick and why is she so important?

Damon has known where she’s been. I don’t know how long he’s known, but we didn’t have to go hunt her down. Dude gave us an address. Said, “Go watch her.” Which we did. And then yesterday he calls up, Logan gives him a report, and then he says, “End it.”

So we are.

But I’m starting to maybe not like this idea so much. Too many weird things not adding up now that I’ve seen this building.

This is not her place, I decide. This is an outbuilding a man owns. And there is no man here now and no man returning, of that I’m certain.

I shine my flashlight on the generator, find the switch, and I’m just about to turn it on when I hear a laugh outside.