Pike (The Pawn Duet #1) - T.M. Frazier Page 0,49

black tape over the top.”

“And?” he says, slowly releasing his hold on me, blinking away the anger possessing him.

I point to the screen. “Look. In the video, they have the same tape, but it’s thicker than I saw it downstairs, and it’s wrapped differently. There are two passes over the packages instead of one.”

“They’ve been tampered with,” he says, staring at the screen.

“That’s what I’m thinking.” Keeping my towel tight around my body. “Do you have a pen and paper?”

“Why?”

“Because there are some things we’ll need if you want to know for sure.”

After I write down what I’ll need, Pike storms out. I take the opportunity to get dressed in one of Pike’s t-shirts I find in the dresser since I don’t want to put the muddy ones back on. I comb through my wet hair and brush my teeth. I check the alarm clock on the nightstand. He’s been gone for over an hour, and I’m beginning to think he’s not coming back and has blown off my idea as another tactic of manipulation.

After almost two hours, the door opens. Pike enters with one of the packages from the truck and a crate containing plastic jugs of the chemicals I requested. I’m not going to ask him how he managed to get them since the only place I know of that would have them on hand are labs and industrial chemical plants.

“The kitchen will be easier,” I suggest. “More space.”

He motions for me to follow him. He sets everything down on the counter, and I go to work setting out what I’ll need, making sure to identify each liquid individually and placing them in a line in the order I’ll be using them. “You have a clean bowl? Glass would be preferred.”

He opens the cabinets and pulls out a brandy glass, setting it on the counter beside my elbow. “This will work.”

Pike takes a seat at the counter on one of the stools and watches as I work, delicately combining a fragile mix of chemicals that, if not handled properly, could blow this place to smithereens.

He shakes his head as if he can’t believe he agreed to this. “You could be building a fucking bomb for all I know.”

I shake my head and swirl the contents of the glass. “Nope, but it could do some damage in untrained hands,” I offer. “A bomb would require a current. A car battery or…” I notice Pike staring at me. It’s probably best not to explain to him how to build a bomb, never mind let him know I can build one with household items. A powerful one, too. “Uh, never mind.”

I glance to the plastic package. “Open it,” I instruct him.

Pike unsheathes his knife and is about to cut into the package.

I hold out my hand to stop him.

“What now?” he barks.

I smile flatly. “Wash it first.”

He rises to his feet and washes the knife in the sink with soap and water. The counter space is limited, his bicep brushing my forearm as he dries the now gleaming knife. The electric current I felt outside hums between us once again. My skin becomes all too aware of his presence, and I squeeze my legs together to stop the pulsing of unmet need pounding there.

I let out a held breath when he rounds the counter and again perches on his stool, putting some much-needed distance between us.

He stabs a hole into the package. “How many do you need?”

“Just one,” I reply. “Drop it into the glass.”

He scoops one pill from the package and hovers the knife above the glass. “Slowly” I say, crouching down so that I’m eye level with the glass. I raise my palm. “Very slowly.”

Pike lowers the blade inside the glass without touching the liquid. He slowly flips it, dropping the white pill into the clear thick liquid. “What now?” he asks, sheathing his knife in his boot.

“Now, we wait.” I lift the glass, slowly swirling the contents. “It should only be a few…” The liquid begins to change to a light blue, and after a few seconds, it’s much darker, the color of the stuff used to unclog drains, confirming my suspicions.

I set the glass down carefully.

Pike leans over the counter, staring down into the glass. “Well?”

I point to the glass. “It’s definitely been tampered with. The MDMA has been laced with fentanyl and judging by the color…” I tap the rim. “This one pill contains a ton of it. If it were ingested…” I pause unable to