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Helper 99

W hat a shitshow this all is. I don’t even know where to begin.

He sure likes to take chances.

Easy, I suppose, when someone else cleans up the mess.

Speaking of, Lena Blackwell is already inside the trap.

She just hasn’t felt the teeth sink in yet.

I lean back in my chair, fingers drumming idly against my desk as I skim through the latest updates on her. GPS pings. Call logs. Email threads. A slow, quiet mapping of her every move. She’s predictable in all the ways that matter, and yet…

Ellis says she’s special.

I don’t see it.

But then, I never do.

She’s another desperate woman, another runner who thinks she’s heading toward something rather than away. They always do, at first. They tell themselves they’re choosing this. That they’re the ones taking control.

But control is an illusion.

I know that better than anyone.

I exhale, scrolling through the feed of security footage from today.

Lena, hunched over her desk, staring at her computer like she can feel the walls closing in.

Lena, in the break room, watching the wrong person for a second too long.

Lena, scrolling through the emails Ellis wanted her to see.

And then, of course, Gillian.

Ah.

Now that was interesting.

The feed from last night isn’t high quality—Shergar doesn’t exactly like to advertise its deeper surveillance—but it’s enough. Enough to see Ellis’s hand on Gillian’s throat. Enough to see the way he tilts her chin just so, forcing her to look at him.

Enough to see the moment she stops fighting.

I watch it again. And again.

And the third time, I watch her face.

Not her body, not Ellis—just her. The way her expression shifts. The way she blinks, slow and dazed, like something inside her is slipping.

Ellis loves his toys. But this isn’t a toy. This is a test.

I roll my chair back and exhale slowly, reaching for my coffee. It’s cold now, but I sip it anyway, letting the bitter taste settle on my tongue.

He’s making a point.

To me.

To Gillian.

And now, to Lena.

He’s keeping Gillian close. Not out of nostalgia. Not out of kindness. But because she is living proof of what happens to the ones who forget their place.

And Lena?

She’s watching.

She might not know what she’s seeing yet, but she will.

And that means I have a decision to make.

Because Lena Blackwell is either going to be useful—or she’s going to be a problem.

Ellis hasn’t decided which yet.

Neither have I.

But I will.

Soon.