Strike Me Down - Mindy Mejia Page 0,91

to disappear.”

Gregg nodded, a small smile on his mouth, and infinite compassion brimming in his eyes. Then he lunged at her.

Nora hitched back on the desk and kicked, a front kick that caught him directly in the groin. He grunted and doubled over and she shoved him back, forgetting all her punches, all the training. All she could think about was getting as far away as possible, but before she’d taken two steps he dove into her, sending them both flying into the desk and crashing onto the floor. A stabbing pain shot through her arm and she cried out, rolling to her other side. When she looked back, Gregg was already swinging. Keep your guard up, she could hear the echo of Logan’s voice, but she couldn’t lift the broken limb in time.

A cold, heavy object smashed into her face, crunching bone, ripping skin. She fell, and the back of her head hit something else. On the other end of a long, dark tunnel, she heard Gregg’s voice, murmuring.

“I’m sorry to tell you, Nora, but they don’t ever disappear. Frame them, kill them, it doesn’t matter. Somehow they keep coming back.”

GREGG

I KNOCKED ON the door that led from the Strike offices into the men’s locker room of the gym. It took several minutes, but eventually the security pad bleeped and the door swung open, the light behind Aaden throwing him into shadow. We stood for a moment, neither of us moving. The entire building was silent, as if watching, waiting. In the end I was the first one to speak.

“What am I doing here?”

It was the middle of the night on one of those early March evenings when winter in Minnesota is endless, the cold intolerable not for its temperature but its sheer duration. Even Madison, where I’d been today, felt somehow closer to spring.

“Walk in slowly,” he said.

I hadn’t recognized the number when he called earlier tonight. I’d just checked in to a hotel in Rochester, my impulse lately when traveling by car, to stay on the road as long as possible, away from the penthouse where I was clearly no longer necessary or welcome. Aaden hadn’t wasted any time in pleasantries. He demanded to meet in person—tonight—or else he’d go straight to Logan. About what, I asked. Come to the club, he’d said, as though graciously inviting me to visit his summer house. I told him I was an hour away and he hung up, apparently believing the matter settled. I’d spent the drive in alternating states of anger and unease, and when I arrived downtown I took a back, staff-only stairwell that led to Strike headquarters, a route entirely devoid of cameras, and used a spare key a janitor had given me once to access our floor. Not knowing what I was walking into, I treaded as lightly as possible.

“Look, I’m happy to be here for my trainers and staff, any time of the day or night. But I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what this is about. Are you in some kind of trouble?”

He backed up as I propped the door open and walked into the room, both of us taking infinite care to retain our distance from the other.

I checked the corners of the space, the bathrooms and showers, to see if we were alone. When I turned back around an object was flying at my face. Jerking, I caught it and found myself holding his company badge.

“I quit.”

Careful not to take my eyes off him again, I slid the ID into my jacket pocket. “Resignation letters are usually delivered to your immediate supervisor or HR. During business hours.”

“I’m not going to be a part of this.” He pulled out his phone and hit a few buttons, then showed me a screen too far away to read.

“Sorry, my eyes aren’t what they used to be.”

“Deposits in my bank account. Nineteen thousand dollars! You’re setting me up.”

I wasn’t the one trying to insert myself into his company. I wasn’t taking over his mother’s grocery store and sleeping with her on the side.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Aaden.” I shifted an inch toward the door, still open behind me, but before I could move further he pulled out a gun. An actual gun. The entire room refocused, everything else fell into meaningless background, and I didn’t hear what he was saying until he motioned with the weapon, assured me it was loaded, and repeated that he would kill me if