Chapter 23 · Fed on Her Tail

The doorbell rings at seven a.m.

I'm on the couch. Still holding my phone. The call ended two hours ago but I haven't moved. Dad's voice is looping in my head. The code word. The static. The way he hung up before I could ask if he's really alive or if someone's using his grave to mess with me.

Locke's in the kitchen. I hear the coffee machine hiss, then his footsteps. He comes around the corner pulling a shirt on. Hair still wet. He sees my face and stops.

"Who the hell rings a safehouse doorbell," he says.

I don't answer. My throat's dry. I didn't tell him about the call. Didn't tell him Dad might be breathing somewhere while we're playing house and planning how to bury his enemies.

Locke crosses to the door. Checks the camera feed on the wall panel. His shoulders go tight.

"It's your ex."

I'm on my feet. "Devin?"

"Yeah. Devin fucking Hart. And he's got a file folder like he's here to serve papers." Locke turns. His voice drops. "Did you call him?"

"No."

"Then how'd he find this address?"

I don't know. This place isn't even under Locke's name.