Page 8 of My End

I let the conversation drift for a while. Nothing important—just the kind of talk people did when they didn’t know each other well. I wanted to ask more about who stayed where, how often Boone and Gibbs came and went, but I couldn’t push. Not yet. Not when my whole existence here was balanced on a knife’s edge.

I was halfway through my plate when Jim walked in, and his boots tapped against the tile like a goddamn drumbeat.

“Getting settled in?” he asked.

I swallowed and nodded. “Yeah.”

“Good,” he said. “You’ll be on the night shift for a few days.”

“Copy that.” Not what I wanted, but I would make do with whatever.

“It should be quiet. Just do rounds around the property and keep an eye on the cameras. Billy and Jeff will be at the gate.”

“Anything else I should know?”

Jim shook his head. “Nope. Just shoot first and ask questions later.”

I raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue. Not the kind of directive you’d expect from a guy working for the US Attorney General. But this wasn’t exactly a normal household.

“Be to the control room by nine.”

“Got it.”

He left, and I took another bite. The food still tasted good, but my stomach felt tighter now.

“You like working here?” I asked Adam.

He shrugged. “It’s a job. Nice to have on my resume that I worked for the US Attorney General.”

I nodded and bit back a smirk. “Yeah. That’d be something to shine up a resume.” Not that I had one. My resume was tattoos, club scars, and a name given to me by my brothers.

I finished the last bite and took the plate to the sink. “Thanks for dinner.”

Adam nodded as he dried another dish. “Breakfast will be ready when you get off shift.”

“If it’s as good as dinner was, I’ll be here.”

I left the kitchen and headed back toward my room.

I walked slow to memorize the turns. Hallways. Exits. Cameras. I had two hours before I needed to be in the control room, so I did a bit of a walk around before I headed back downstairs.

Back in my room, I kicked off my boots, stretched out on the bed, and stared at the ceiling.

That woman, Tilly.

There was something about her. Something that didn’t fit with the rest of this place.

But I couldn’t let that distract me.

I set an alarm on my phone for 8:45.

Then I closed my eyes and let sleep pull me under.

Chapter Four

Tilly

The blank canvas stared at me like it had an attitude.