Lib Novel Page 11
I shook my head, trying to dispel the dread that was curling inside me. A bitter smile twisted my lips as I looked at her. “And to think, all this is what you get for falling for a killer.”
Her eyes flicked up to meet mine, the ghost of a smile gracing her lips, too. But it didn’t reach her eyes. There was no lightness left in either of us—just the heavy reality of our situation.
The silence in the room hung thick, almost tangible, as I tossed a bloodied rag into the bucket with a wet splat. My hands moved mechanically, cleaning away the last evidence of violence that had become an all too familiar part of my life. Abby’s gaze followed every motion, her own hands stilling on the floor she was scrubbing.
“Got any plans after this?”
I snorted. “Uh…maybe go for a run, clear my head—“
“No, like…” she paused. “What we do now, I mean.”
“Well, I’m meeting with my father tomorrow,” I said, keeping it short, my focus on the task at hand. The Serpent didn’t take kindly to surprises, and I wasn’t looking forward to explaining this one.
“Are you going to tell him about me?” Her question hung in the air, hesitant.
I stopped, straightened up, and met her eyes. “If I ratted you out, I’d be signing my own death warrant.” A cold laugh escaped me, humorless. “Ba would kill me for letting an FBI agent get close enough to breathe our air.”
She nodded slowly, absorbing the weight of my words. “So what now?”
“We’re in this together, Abby,” I murmured. “So we keep each other’s secrets, like it or not.”
Chapter Six: Nathan
The door to the Serpent’s Den groaned on its hinges as I pushed it open, the familiar scent of old paper and gunpowder greeting me. It was quieter than usual, the low hum of Chinatown’s hustle shut out behind me, making the space feel like a sanctuary—or a tomb waiting for its next resident.
There was no one here, the usual hum of activity gone. With us locking down on our operation, our numbers were shrinking by the day; Alex was in the wind, along with his buddies Neon and Javi, and Knuckles was busy running errands for Ba.
We were alone.
Maybe he would kill me…or try.
I strode forward and knocked on his office door, and he called me in with a monotone voice. I opened the door to find my father sitting at his desk, a behemoth of polished mahogany that had seen more strategy laid upon it than most military tables. Today, it held a different kind of battlefield: a sprawling map of San Francisco, veins of red ink bleeding across it where he’d marked Xs with a thick marker.
“Ba, what’s all this?” I asked, my eyes tracing the chaotic art, trying to decipher the pattern in the madness.
He didn’t look up from the map, a red marker still clutched in his hand like a weapon. “Trying to find Alex,” he muttered, his voice gravelly with focus. “These bombings…he’s close, Nathan. The circle is tightening. Every attack is closer to our core.”
“Inside our sphere of influence?” I echoed, stepping closer to see the web of destruction he’d traced. My gut twisted. Family ties were supposed to be sacred, yet here we were, hunting one of our own.
Ba finally glanced up, his eyes sharp as shards of glass. “Exactly. We need to find him before the next hit.”
“Ba…I’m not so sure,” I found myself saying, the words slipping out before I could censor them. The doubt had been gnawing at my insides for days now. “We don’t even know if Alex is behind this.”
Ba finally looked up from the map, his gaze steady and unnervingly calm. “He is,” he said with certainty that bordered on clairvoyance. “Who else would dare strike at the heart of the Serpent?”
I wanted to believe him, to trust in the keen instincts that had kept our family afloat in these treacherous waters for so long. Yet, something held me back, a nagging suspicion that we were missing a piece of the puzzle.
Taking a seat across from him, I watched my father work. The red marker danced in his hand as he drew lines between the Xs, connecting dots only he could see. Every stroke was deliberate, every angle calculated.
This was Kenny Zhou in his element—cold, methodical, relentless.
Minutes ticked by in silence until he finally set the marker down and pinned me with a look that made it clear he’d been aware of my scrutiny all along.
“Nathan,” he began, each word measured and heavy with implication, “you’re not starting to question my judgment, are you?”
His voice didn’t rise, but the implicit warning rang clear. To question Kenny Zhou was to question the very pillars upon which our family stood. And yet, here I was, unable to shake off the unease that knotted my chest.
“No, Ba,” I replied, holding his gaze. “Just trying to make sense of it all, like you.”