The life of an Indefinite Playerr

Chapter 35

The sirens grew louder, their wail cutting through the thick night air as I and Jamesw sprinted down the alleyway, our footsteps echoing in sync. I could feel the weight of the gun tucked into the waistband of my jeans, the promise of danger that had once seemed so thrilling now weighing down on me like an anchor.

I didn’t know where we were going, only that I had to run, away from the mess, away from the life I had chosen. My mind was racing. Everyone outside ,gone. Rashin, where was he? The thought of Amanda out there, possibly caught up in all this chaos, was a punch to the gut. And as for me… I wasn’t just some accomplice, not anymore.

Chloe looked away, her gaze flickering to the horizon. "We end this. We have to. This is the last time we get involved in Mr K's affairs."

I nodded, clenching my fists. I had started this all for the wrong reasons—guilt, grief, a need to prove something to myself. But now I saw it all too clearly. It wasn’t worth it.

"We’ll face what’s coming," I said, more to myself than her. "There’s no running anymore. I need to know what is in here."

James took a step back, her face darkening. "Are you really sure that you want to open the laptop without Mr K?"

The question hit me like a slap in the face.

“Maybe I’ve already lost,” I said quietly, staring at the ground, the weight of my mistakes heavy on my chest.

James didn’t say anything. She just stood there, staring at me, before nodding in understanding. We both knew there was no turning back. I started to open the bag.

A car screeched to a halt beside us, and I looked up, my heart skipping a beat. It was Rashin. He was alone, his face unreadable.

"We need to go," Rashin said flatly, his voice cold. "The cops are everywhere. We don’t have much time."

Without a word, we piled into the car. James climbed in next to me, his eyes scanning the streets one last time before he slumped back into the seat. The engine roared to life, and as we sped off into the unknown, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was running from myself.

The night swallowed the car whole as Rashin sped through the backstreets. No one spoke. The hum of the tires and the occasional police siren in the distance filled the silence. My fingers clutched the bag tighter, the laptop inside pulsing with secrets.

“We’re almost there,” Rashin said, his voice still flat.

“Where exactly is there?” James asked, shifting uncomfortably.

“Safe house. Mr. K’s place outside the city. Remote. He’ll be expecting us.”

"Where is everyone else?" I asked.  No answer.

The car finally turned off the main road, bumping along a gravel path bordered by thick forest. A single house stood at the end, shrouded in mist and moonlight. Its lights were off, but Rashin didn’t hesitate.

He parked, killed the engine, and turned to us. “Keep your heads down. Don’t speak unless spoken to.”

We stepped out. The cold bit at my skin, sharp like guilt. We walked up to the door, and before Rashin could knock, it opened.

Mr. K stood there, tall, calm, dressed in a sharp black coat. His eyes fell on me first. Piercing. Knowing.

“You brought it?” he asked.

I nodded and held out the laptop.

“Good,” he said, stepping aside. “Come in. We have much to talk about.”