Prologue

I’ve had my fair share of bad days, but I have to rank the last twenty-four hours as the worst. I mean, it’s not typical to end up standing over your own bullet-ridden corpse. In case you’re wondering, getting shot can put a damper on your day. However, as those recent events churned through my mind, I realized being shot was not the low point, simply the harsh termination of a series of choices. Despite the valiant effort of myself and Alexis, our current situation almost felt inevitable. While he had insisted we crafted the perfect plan, given the time constraints, we obviously had a massive blind spot.

A series of cracks ripped my gaze away from the trio of bullet holes in my body. As I whirled about, searching for the source of the commotion, Bertrand Dempsey’s wild eyes snagged my attention and refused to release me. The portals to his soul overflowed with raw emotion, something conflicting with his storied reputation. Instantly, every story, rumor, or tale of this unflappable man filled my mind. When they’d all played through my mind’s eye, their central theme loomed over me. He was a rational and dispassionate man who seemingly possessed omniscience. And with that overabundance of information, he utilized patience in dealing with any obstacle to his desires.

Yet, amidst the din from the raining debris, Dempsey’s resolve lay among the wreckage of Alexis’s home. I gazed into those tumultuous orbs, searching for the words to describe the man’s mounting emotions. In the end, I could only force a single word upon that look: excitement.

There he was, looming over my corpse, with the actual smoking gun clutched in his whitening fingers. What was wrong with him? As he stood there, basking in what he’d done, his gaze shifted from my body to his next victim, Alexis. The excited gleam in his eyes grew from a faint spark as he studied the man standing beside my corpse. Was Dempsey demented? Never mind, of course he was demented. Unfortunately, if something didn’t change soon, then I’d be as demented for agreeing with this joke of a plan. It had sounded like a good idea while we were discussing it. However, through the lenses of hindsight, my brain catalogued this scheme’s every flaw.

With his chest swelling, Dempsey leveled the pistol on Alexis. And between a pair of moments, an explosion washed over everyone. Why did I flinch? Given how things turned out, I was beyond Dempsey’s grasp, but I still reacted. I pushed the involuntary reaction aside and studied the room, finding Alexis on his butt. Blood seeped through his fingers as he grasped his upper arm. Dempsey inched forward, his lips curling upward. Why did he simply wound Alexis? Was he looking to torture him? If I had been able, I would have screamed.

Why’d Alexis think this plan was reasonable? Before Dempsey’s specter descended upon us, Alexis assured me a noisy entrance would prompt a call to the police. Of course, considering the outcome, I could no longer help Alexis. And considering the taunting silence, Alexis’s belief in his neighbors was also worthless. Despite the steady stream of commotion, the resounding din still lacked the telltale signs of the police’s arrival or approach. Dempsey’s car had plowed through Alexis’s front wall, spew-

ing chunks of glass and wood throughout the room. Given Alexis’s confidence, where were the comforting sirens? Despite the constant noises emanating from the wounded structure, nobody considered intervening.

As the sinister presence grew, Alexis’s guarantee resounded through my mind. He was certain that a good neighbor would make a call. With every passing second, the lack of authorities kindled Dempsey’s growing turmoil. Meanwhile, the color drained from his fingers, gripping the pistol.

When I suggested the police might not arrive until it was too late, Alexis had overruled me. He was confident in both his neighbors and his ability to delay Dempsey’s actions. He was certain the police would swoop in and prevent the man from going too far. As the excitement in Dempsey’s wild gaze intensified, I knew Alexis had been wrong.

And right then, the crazed gunman wanted to teach Alexis why interfering with Dempsey’s business was always a fatal decision.

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