“They'll call once he sets down somewhere.” A knock at the door signaled the room service he'd called in and I went back to staring out the window.
I wanted to do something but I had no idea where to even begin to find Suit. Why did I listen to him? Why? I was mad at him and furious at myself.
“Here. I got you a tea.” He placed a filled teacup on the table next to me.
I eyed the peace offering. It wasn't nearly enough to take the edge off the anger I had at him for blowing it. But I was in the mood for tea.
He went back to one of the queen beds and leaned against the headboard, watching TV. Strike that, feigning interest in the TV. He was actually watching me. Why? What was I not seeing, here?
I eyed the cup of tea on the table and then slowly brought it to my lips. I'm a tea drinker. There isn't a blend that exists I haven't tried and I'd never tasted one like this.
I wanted to spit out the tiny sip immediately but I couldn’t. He drugged my tea. Why? I didn’t think it was lethal. He could’ve taken me out countless times before now, if that was his objective. That only left him wanting to keep me away from Suit.
That wasn’t happening.
But what do I do now? I could feel his eyes on me from across the room. I couldn’t tell him I knew. It would force a confrontation I'd lose. If I didn't drink it, it might still force a confrontation I'd lose. If I drank it, no immediate confrontation, but I’d definitely lose.
I did the only option I could think of. I chugged it back as quickly as I could then got up. “I'm going to take a shower. I still feel disgusting from being so close to Maxwell.”
He nodded but didn't budge or seem alarmed.
I shut the bathroom door and turned the water on full blast. Luckily, there was a radio system in there, too. I turned that on for good measure. Now, to throw up.
That wasn't going to be easy since I don't throw up. I've got a pretty tough stomach that only the worst of flus can take down. I grabbed the toothbrush Fate had picked up for me, then poked and prodded my tonsils like it was a full time job.
Every minute counted but I finally emptied my stomach while I thought about how I was going to make Fate pay for whatever he was up to. And that was alarming. What was he doing?
I jumped in the shower to put on a good show and then walked back in the bedroom with my hair dripping wet, adorned in a comfy white terry robe. I didn’t say anything as I lay down on the other bed and pretended to pass out.
He didn't waste much time.
“Camilla?” he said about ten minutes later.
When I didn't answer, I heard him get up and move around the room. The door opened and shut shortly after.
I jumped off the bed, pulled the robe that hid my clothes underneath off and ran out the door after him.
The elevators were to the right but I took the stairs to the roof. As long as he was walking, I'd be able to figure out what direction and follow him. If he was driving, I was screwed.
I saw him walk out of the front of the building...and get into a white SUV. I slammed my fist down onto the roof I was squatting on. Now what?
I could try and take off after him on foot but I wasn't sure that was going to do me much good. Even if I tried to steal a car, by time I figured out how to steal it, he'd be gone.
And then, gently sailing down from the sky, came a bright neon green slip of paper. It fell neatly to where it lay just beside my foot. On it, an address, and the color and make of a car.
I looked upward. “Dude, I'm sorry for all the lousy things I might have said about you or your people...your office. You know, let’s not drag this out. You get the point.”
I shoved the paper in my back pocket and headed toward the parking lot.
***
I pulled up to a two-story building about twenty minutes south of the hotel. There wasn't a house or other structure in sight. I hadn't even seen a light, other than my headlights, for miles.
He wasn't alone. There were five other cars besides the white SUV parked at the side of the building.
I parked a good distance away and then I slowly crept up next to a window by the door.
It was pitch black out here—so as long as I stayed out of the light, I was pretty sure they couldn't see me.
Suit was sitting in a chair in the center of the barren warehouse. I wanted to punch my fist on the wall next to the window. Double-crossing jerk!
Fate stood dead center in front of him, with Lars to his right, and three other large men to his left. And not a single one of them showed any kind of aura. Was it possible one of the other three were human? Yes, but not likely. What the hell was going on here?
Fate walked toward the man until he was inches away from his face. I knew he was talking to him, even though I couldn't see his face or hear the words. He straightened up and walked away, then turned back lightning fast and punched the guy in the face. The man and the chair flew backwards together, blood already dripping down his face.
I took a step back and then caught myself. I needed to hear what was being said.
“If I tell you, I'm dead anyway,” the man screamed loud enough that I could hear him through the pane of glass.
Fate didn't bother looking at him when he said the next words. “You'll wish it was him killing you if you don't tell me.”
Lars stepped forward, grabbed the front of the guy’s shirt in one hand and the chair in the other and dragged them both upright.
“What are you doing with them?” Fate asked Suit.
“You've got the wrong guy. I'm not what you think.”
“You're exactly what I think. Don't play stupid. You know what I am.”
Lars stepped back. “You want to kill him?”
“No. I want answers and I’ll keep him in chains until I get them, if need be.”
He wasn't going to kill him. The only thing I'd wanted. But I wasn't moving on until this guy was dead.
“So what do we do?” Lars asked.
“Work him over but keep. Him. Alive. I'll be back shortly. I've got to go handle something.”
When Fate headed toward the door to leave, I scrambled to hide around the corner.
Pressed against the wall, I tried not to even breathe until I heard his footsteps receding. When I didn't hear any at all, I started to wonder if he'd stayed inside.
Until he was right in front of me. I turned to dodge to my right and his hand slammed into the wall. I changed direction and the other one came slamming down.
Without any other option, I looked right at him. “I take it you'd like to talk?”
He didn’t smile. “How are you here?”
“You mean at this locale or alive?” Considering he'd slipped something into my tea, it was a valid question.
“If I wanted you dead, you would be. How did you get here?” He moved in closer.
“I got a memo.”
His eyes squinted as he tried to stare me down. “Why do you keep getting memos?”
“I guess the universe likes me better.” This was definitely one of those moments I should be playing nice—he had something I wanted. And yet I couldn't. Sometimes I'm amazed I've made it this far in life without ever being punched in the face. If that never tipped me off to some sort of universal intervention, I guess nothing would've.
He took a step back and then turned his back on me, looked upward, and shook his head.
Aha! I wasn’t the only one that tried to talk to the universe!
He finally turned back. “I don't get it, but if it wants you here, I can’t stop you.” He started walking toward the door and looked back at me. “Are you coming?”
I pushed off the wall and followed before he decided to change his mind again.
We stopped right outside the threshold, where we still had a view of the man. Lars was now leaning over him and looked like he’d done more than that from the swelling over Suit’s left eye.
“This group,” he pointed inside, “what’s going on here, goes a lot deeper than a few tattoos and a couple of secrets. You walk in, and you are in. Do you understand what I mean?”
“For what? The little time I have left?”
“And what if, for some reason, you decide to stay?”
“I told you. I'm not staying.”
He looked at me and I could see the hesitation there.
“Do you know something I don't?”