It caused Nasa physical pain to say, “I don't know.”
“You ever tell Ghost about your life before Perdition?”
“Fuck no! The only reason you know is because you got me black out drunk the day I came to sign up as a prospect and wheeled it out of me!”
Top gave a sad, reminiscent sigh. “I miss being able to make snot-nosed punks like you puke their guts up. Good times. Remind me why we don't do that anymore?”
“Background checks are more efficient,” Nasa muttered darkly.
“Apparently not.” Top arched his brows in challenge, which only served to piss Nasa off even more.
“Come back and bust my balls when you actually have something, until then, piss off. She's in good hands with the commandos.”
*****
Pride goeth before the fall.
The old saying continued to pop through Dillon's mind as she did another walk-through of her house. She knew she shouldn't have come back here.
Everything she needed to move on was tucked away in the secret compartment in her Bronco, and the Go-Bag full of spare clothes and supplies she'd need for Elka always sat in the back of the truck.
Her sanctuary was compromised, and after the fear faded to a more manageable level, Dillon decided she was pissed.
She was pissed terror had her shaking in her boots as she walked from room to room, keeping her in a state of hyper-vigilance that had her seeing shadows where there were none.
Dillon knew Ghost must have been stalking her for days, weeks even, to have gotten a sense of what she thought was an unpredictable schedule.
She changed up her routine at the drop of a hat, thinking the spontaneity would help protect her. She rarely ever took the same route into town twice. Elka wasn't even on a regular exercise schedule.
Dillon followed every rule she'd been taught to keep herself safe and had gone so far as to install a biometric security system that utilized the rhythm of her heartbeat to get in and out of the house.
Cameras were everywhere around the ten-acre property. The windows all had an industrial aluminum frame that held in bulletproof glass, and any interruption in the electro-magnetic charge running through every door and window would cause steel shutters rolled down from the inside, providing a completely sealed building.
The doors were reinforced and the exterior of the house was solid brick, the fence surrounding the house completely electrified; motion sensors were everywhere...
Maybe they call him Ghost because he can walk through walls, drawled Dillon's sarcastic inner voice. But ghosts didn't make floorboards creak under their weight.
In the renovation, Dillon purposefully left a few creaky boards throughout the house as another pre-warning system.
If she hadn’t been drugged, she would have heard the creak and been able to get to cover before the door opened.
She stood in her bedroom, trying to look at it without reliving the horrifying moments where she'd been so sure she was going to die.
The white duvet and blue striped sheets were still rumpled, only one pillow remained on the bed from where Dillon had thrashed and struggled to fight off the remnants of the paralytic.
Her dresser drawer was still open where Ghost had rifled through her underwear for the black bra he’d put on her. He'd even left the oxygen tank behind and strapped to her face to ensure she didn't suffocate after he left her.
Dillon scrubbed her hands through her hair as she sagged back against the door, exhausted and panting like she'd run a marathon.
She wished she could crawl back in bed and pretend the last day hadn't happened, but falling asleep in this room... not happening.
She'd come back to try and figure out where she'd gone wrong and to get a fresh change of clothes and some of Elka's things. It quickly became clear what a mistake it had been. She was too emotional, the fear and trauma too fresh.
Elka gave a low whine, looking up at her in confusion, on edge because Dillon was surfing the wave of a meltdown.
“We're gonna go soon, I just need to get some stuff, okay?” Elka tilted her head to the side in the cutest way. “It'll be alright. I'll find us someplace new to stay. We'll be safe.”
Dillon said the words out loud, but deep down, it didn’t feel like the truth.
Elka didn't dispute, she just sat and patiently waited for Dillon to get herself together, and then followed Dillon around the house like a shadow while Dillon gathered up the things she needed to get through the next few days.
It made Dillon feel better to know there was a load of clean laundry in the dryer, stuff Ghost hadn't touched.
She didn't take any of her electronics, except her external hard drive, none of her toiletries, none of the things in her bedroom, just the clean clothes that got tossed in a spare backpack.
For all she knew, Ghost had tampered with everything. No reason to risk it when most of her stuff could be replaced.
She grabbed Elka's favorite blanket and some collapsible food bowls, and in the kitchen, she pushed the hidden cupboard beneath the island open to reveal the case with her small collection of handguns, her stash of cash, and important documents.
Ghost—that bastard—had taken the Firestar she usually slept with, and Dillon wasn't sure why. If he was as good as Top said, Ghost could get whatever weapons he needed. Why take her pistol?
“Probably just to fuck with me even more,” she growled, preferring to be angry than afraid.
After closing the secret compartment, Dillon set the silver case on the counter and flipped it open, perusing her options.
The Defender was compact enough to fit unobtrusively in her waistband, but if push came to shove and she had to shoot someone to protect herself, the .19 held more bullets.
“Nineteen it is,” she decided, remembering Joshua telling her the difference between life or death was as simple
