Chapter 9
She sprinted down the hallway, her boots skidding on the marble. The digital eyes on the walls seemed to track her, blurring as she ran.
The lights in the hallway were still out. She ran by memory, her hand trailing the wall.
"Aura, unlock front door," the voice that echoed over the intercom was still synthetic, but the modulator seemed to glitch, the pitch wavering for a second, revealing a hint of a low, breathless human tone underneath before correcting itself. He was letting her go.
The front door slid open ahead, revealing the grey, rainy night.
She burst into the cold air, gulping it down like water. She scrambled onto her scooter, her hands shaking so badly she dropped the keys again.
"Dammit!" She snatched them up from the wet gravel, scraping her knuckles.
She kicked the engine to life. Before she peeled out, she risked a glance back at the house.
The front door was open. He was standing in the frame of light, a silhouette against the amber glow of the foyer.
He was touching his lips with two fingers, watching her.
She gunned the engine and tore down the driveway. She didn't slow down until she hit the main road of the Zone, merging into traffic with reckless speed.
She pulled into an alley behind a dumpster three blocks away. She ripped off her uniform jacket, hauling her shirt down to check her shoulder in the reflection of the scooter's side mirror.
There was a red mark. Teeth marks. But no blood.
She touched it, wincing. It was tender.
She felt violated. But mostly, she felt confused.
Why didn't he stop her? He could have crushed her.
She checked her pockets.
The envelope. She still had it.
She opened it. It wasn't just cash this time. Inside was two thousand dollars and a note.
The note was handwritten on heavy, cream-colored cardstock. The ink was black, the handwriting jagged and aggressive.
For the inconvenience. See you Tuesday.
Tuesday. Two days from now.
He expected her back. He knew she would come back.
She crushed the note in her fist.
"You arrogant bastard," she hissed at the rain.
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