If I’d known a career as a hitman was this hazardous, I never would have bothered in the first place.

I huff and drag my good hand back through my hair. Okay. Think, Perry. Focus. You can do this.

St. Clare is convinced these nightclub people are after him, so maybe I need to pay them a visit? Find some things out. Work out if it’s them at all.

How will I do that? No clue. I assume an opportunity will present itself though.

You miss one hundred percent of opportunities if you don’t try. Of course, that opens up the opportunity for someone to shoot me in the head, but we have to start somewhere, and that’s one outcome of many.

They might shoot me in the chest instead.

I rub my sternum, not thrilled by that idea either, but what other choice do we have? None of us wants to be stuck here for long.

The penthouse would have been much better, and if they didn’t find us there, we’d still be living in luxury. I did everything I could to throw off the people Luther had following me, and I really thought I did it. I’d been content to ride around in circles all day to get rid of them, and the only reason I went back when I did is because I’d been so, so sure we were in the clear.

So sure.

A sliver of fear tracks down my spine. Did they follow me … or did they find me another way?

Tommy only knew where I was because I told him. I didn’t have my backpack. It was just me and … my phone.

I head over to the small table where I left it a few hours ago, and all I have waiting is a check-in message from Margot. Then another telling me I need to message her now so she knows I’m alive.

I quickly do exactly that, not wanting her to worry, then turn my phone over in my hands. It’s very old and very secondhand. The thought of someone tracking it doesn’t seem possible, considering the signal I get on the thing is spotty at best.

Just when I thought I’d be able to upgrade to something that gets internet, all this shit went and started. Still, to be on the safe side, I text Margot that I’m turning off my phone for a bit in case it’s being traced and that I’ll check in when I can.

That should do it.

I think.

If someone was tracking it though, we’d probably be surrounded by now.

And since Luther needed me to give him St. Clare, he obviously doesn’t know where he is. Which means neither of them is being tracked either.

And again, if they were, we’d probably be dead by now.