Page 13 of All The Darkest Truths (Second Sons Duet #2)

“In our line of work, everyone's using something,” Alex mutters, rising to his feet. “Talon, status?”

“Still clear,” comes the immediate response through our earpieces.

“Fine,” I pull out my phone again, opening the camera app.

“Wait,” Alex says, holding up a hand. “Use my phone instead. Less chance of it being traced.” He tosses me a sleek black device that looks military-grade.

As Alex carefully rolls Ricky back over, I snap several clear shots of the man's face, contorted in death.

“Hands, too,” Alex reminds me.

I photograph each hand, noting the defensive wounds across his palms and fingers. He'd fought back, at least.

“This wasn't just a hit,” I say, handing Alex back his phone. “This was a message.”

“But who is the intended recipient?” Alex points out, pocketing his phone. “Either Ricky double crossed him, or he knows Ricky tipped us off about Vesper’s auction. Either scenario isn’t good.”

“We should go through his place properly. There might be more?—”

“No time,” Alex cuts me off. “We need to be gone before someone calls this in. The neighbors might have heard something.”

He's right. We already spent too long here.

My comm crackles to life. “Guys,” Talon's voice is urgent in my ear. “We've got movement. Patrol car. You need to get the fuck out of there now.”

“Once we’re out, you rendezvous with Z and Vesper.”

“Copy,” Talon answers.

“Your jacket's a mess,” Alex points out. “Take it off.”

I shrug out of the black blazer, turning it inside out before folding it carefully. The shirt underneath has only a few drops of crimson, but in the dim light, it could pass for anything.

“Fire escape. Now.”

I follow, tucking the folded jacket under my arm. The window slides open with a soft groan of protest, letting in a rush of cold night air that momentarily clears the scent of death from my nostrils.

Alex slips through first, his movements fluid and silent despite his size. I follow, careful not to touch the frame with my bare hands. The metal grating beneath my feet feels precarious, rattling slightly.

“Patrol car is turning onto the street now.”

We descend rapidly. Three floors down, my foot slips on a wet patch, sending a loud clang that echoes through the alley. We both freeze.

“Keep moving,” Alex hisses after a moment.

When we reach the bottom, Alex drops silently to the ground. I follow, landing in a puddle that splashes muddied water onto my pants. At least it will cover any blood on them.

“Patrol car is passing the building,” Talon relays. “Shit. They’re turning towards the alley.”

“Go, go, go!” I whisper-shout, grabbing Alex's arm as we sprint down the alley.

We stay tight against the brick wall. The beam of headlights sweeps across the entrance to the alley. We quickly duck behind an open dumpster.

“Fuck,” Alex breathes next to me.

“Get in,” I tell him, climbing up the backside of the dumpster.

Alex gives me a look like I've lost my mind, but the patrol car's headlights grow closer with each passing second. We tumble into the dumpster, sinking into a nauseating soup God knows what. We duck lower into the disgusting muck.

“If we survive this, I'm going to kill you myself.”

I suppress a gag as something slimy slides down my neck. “Noted.”

Through our comms, I hear Talon's controlled breathing.

“They're getting out. Two officers, flashlights out.”

Footsteps approach, crunching on broken glass and gravel. A beam of light sweeps over the dumpster, lingering just long enough to make my heart stutter. I feel Alex tense beside me, his hand moving slowly toward his weapon.

“Dispatch, this is Unit 47,” a gruff voice calls from just outside our hiding place. “Nothing in the alley except garbage. It was probably just a stray cat.”

The radio crackles with an unintelligible response.

“Roger that. Heading back to patrol.”

The footsteps retreat. Car doors slam. The engine grows louder, then gradually fades as the cruiser pulls away from the alley.

“They're gone,” Talon confirms through the comms. “Clear to move.”

I exhale a breath, the stench of our hiding place hitting me full force again. Alex and I exchange a glance, his expression murderous.

We climb out, both of us reeking. A piece of something I don't want to identify clings to my sleeve. I flick it away with barely concealed disgust.

“We'll never live this down,” I mutter, wiping futilely at the slime coating my arm.

“Next time, I'm choosing the hiding spot,” Alex remarks. “Just let me shoot them.”

“And then we'd have the entire Boston PD on our asses,” I remind him as we move swiftly through the darkness towards my car at the front of the building.

“And?”

We return to the car without being noticed, though the stench lingers strongly around us. I get into the driver's seat, and Alex settles into the passenger seat. The odor is intense between us. I start the engine while we both crack the windows to let in some fresh air.

“You know this will never come out of the leather, right?”

“No shit,” I snap back before peeling out of the parking spot and heading toward the apartment—where the longest, hottest shower of my life awaits...along with the mental list of cars I’ll never let him touch again.