Corrupted Queen - Nicole Fox Page 0,59

then I head to the gym.

I run full-tilt on the treadmill for a solid twenty minutes. It’s not necessary for my plan that I murder myself on the gym equipment, but it helps with my nerves. After that, I do ten minutes of cycling, then crush a few weights as the sweat trickles down my brow.

I know it’s time to go, but I find myself stalling. Maybe I should do a few burpees first? Some jumping jacks?

No, I can do this.

I chug some water and walk with confidence out of the gym, down the winding hall and out the back door. The guards posted there look at me quizzically.

“It’s a little late to be going for a run,” one of them says.

I smile back at them. “I’m just going for a cooldown walk.”

They clearly find my behavior strange, but they don’t stop me. My plan is far from elegant, but I feel better knowing that I have a premise for being out here, however odd it may be. I don’t pat myself on the back just yet, though. If Gabriel sees me creeping around outside in the dark, “cooldown walk” or not, he’ll be immediately suspicious.

The night air feels like heaven on my feverish skin. It cools the sweat on my brow and winds through my ponytail as I stride out toward the trees. The grass is dewy beneath my feet, and high above, a kaleidoscope of stars winks against the black curtain of the sky. It’s beautiful. I should go for nighttime walks more often.

I disappear into the edge of the tree line, casting a glance behind me. It doesn’t look like I’ve been followed.

It’s pitch-black under the thick branches, and I stumble over a few of the roots as I pick my way toward the other side of the small copse. Silence fills the space between the trees like a thick fog, and goose bumps prickle up my arms as the warm glow of my workout starts to fade away.

I come out on the other side of the trees and see the storage shed ahead of me. I peer around, but there doesn’t seem to be anyone else nearby. I dart across the clearing and crouch next to the door as I pull out the tools from the zipped pocket.

My heart tap dances on the back of my ribs as I work the tools in the lock, ears pricked for the sound of footsteps. I picture Gabriel’s shadow falling over me any second. If he found me, I’d be done for. Gabriel wouldn’t hurt me or kill me, but he could do much worse. He could take Harry away and banish me. I’d never see my son again.

I think of all the addicts growing cold in alleyways and motel rooms around the city, and of their parents, who don’t yet know that the last conversation they had with their child will be the last ever. I’m doing this for them, for all of them. I just need to make sure I don’t get caught.

The padlock clicks open and I cheer silently. With one last furtive glance over my shoulder, I slip into the storage shed and close the door behind me. There is no light inside, so I turn on the flashlight on my phone and scan the interior.

Cardboard boxes fill the whole space, neatly stacked from floor to ceiling. I go to the nearest one and gently pry it open.

Dread sinks low into my gut.

The contents reflect purple splinters of light back into the room. Finally, without a shadow of a doubt, I have evidence that Gabriel is running the distribution of purple heroin in the city. There are hundreds of small bags inside the box, like taster kits, and I expect every box in here is exactly the same. Considering a small amount of this stuff can kill a human being, there is enough purple heroin in here to kill hundreds, maybe thousands.

My stomach turns at the thought of it.

When my thoughts catch up to the machine-gun fire of my heartbeat, I realize that I have already lingered too long. I got what I need. Now I need to get out. I snap a quick photo and put the box back as I found it, killing the flashlight before retreating onto the lawn and clicking the padlock back in place.

My hair stands on end from the cold. I wrap my arms around myself and sprint back to the trees, still listening for any signs of movement