Page 11 of Cruel Debts (Killers of Port Wylde #4)

NINE

TRINITY

This was so much worse on so many levels that I hadn’t even thought about, it was hilarious. Or it would be, if I hadn’t been fighting a breakdown at that very moment.

The one called wore a fucking plague doctor mask, but unlike the cheap Halloween knock-offs, this was a stitched leather, clearly vintage piece. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if it had walked right out of the era of the black plague.

The one called Ghost wore an Oni mask, a throwback to ancient Japanese history, the white and red stark against his tanned skin.

All I could see of his face was those sharp white teeth, grinning like an extension of the mask’s fangs.

He looked hungry, and I suddenly felt like a rabbit facing down a fox.

The last one, Sentry, wore a neck gaiter and a pair of goggles, his whole face hidden from view.

He looked like an enigma, someone who could slip in and out of a place without being seen unless he wanted to be.

His eyes behind the goggles were sharp, seeing everything yet appearing to focus on nothing simultaneously.

I could feel them on me as I sat in Minnie’s spare chair, letting my bag hit the floor as I mirrored the men’s lack of interest.

If they wanted to play hard to read, so could I. I wasn’t sure who wanted this situation less, me or them, but right now, I’d bet on me.

They were still getting paid, after all.

Or were they?

I didn’t care either way, but I could sympathize with them if they were being forced to do this for free.

But not much.

Just a little.

I settled in for what felt like an end-of-the-world conversation, already dreading agreeing to this whole thing.