Secrets of Summer - THE SPECTER SERIES [book four]

Chapter TWELVE

Kirby Carter

. . o n e w e e k l a t e r . .

You had spent the week going over and over the terrifying schematics that Darby had given you..

Sitting on the cozy, old worn-in couch in the living room of your apartment, with the rumpled paper that lists the details of the devices he wants you to build, laid out on the retro red and yellow coffee table in front of you..

But, you don't think you can do it..

Not because you don't know how, but because what he wants is insane.. You can't actually go through with this..

Can you?

The device he is asking for, includes a series of detonators, designed to trigger a chain reaction along a circuit, the impact and damage of which would be on an exponential, unmeasurable scale..

The blast radius on a device like this, could easily level a small city.. And you have no idea what he plans to use it for..

Aside from the obvious..

You've been racking your brain for a way out, a solution to any one of your problems..

Darby's insane ultra-weapon.. That scares the hell out of you..

Lucky dating Darby, which you still can't quite understand..

and Paxton.. The CIA ghost who you know is still lurking in the shadows somewhere.. Just waiting to catch you and stick you in some hole, never to see the light of day again..

On top of all that, you find yourself constantly distracted by thoughts of The Viking and the perfect night you shared..

You wish you could return to those brief moments when your mind was empty of all these questions, all the worrying and the pain..

He had made you feel safe.. If only for a few beautiful hours..

Something you haven't felt in so long you almost forgot how to feel it.. A pointless fantasy..

Shaking your head to clear the viking from your thoughts, you get back to concentrating on the plans.. You've been considering sabotaging the device, but Darby is more than capable of seeing through any obvious traps you may set or safety additions like kill-switches.. Any attempt to do so would require some serious work.. And you have a feeling that Darby won't be all to patient when it comes to getting what he wants..

How the hell are you supposed to keep everything from crashing down around you.. Because, at the end of the day, if Hunter Paxton and the CIA get their hands on you, you'll never be able to protect Lucky.. And everything evil thing that Darby has done over the last six years will be pinned solely on you..

Panicked and a little pissed off, you have already called Lucky three times today to check up on her, and she is starting to think you're going insane..honestly.. You kind of are..

You are swimming in dangerous waters here, and you know that pretty soon Darby is going to come checking in on his ultra-weapon.. And looking at his plans, you can already see the flaws in his design and why it is that he has come to you, demanding your help..

It's late in the evening, too late, when your phone rings and you jump on it, checking the screen to see that it isn't your sister, but instead, Patrick..

You answer nervously, you don't usually hear from Patrick quite so much, he is usually far more low-key than this and the fact that he is calling you now, is more than a little disconcerting.. "O'connor.. Not a great time.."

You try to get rid of him fast, whatever it is, you really don't want to drag him back into all of the IRA bullshit that haunts you.. Not when he has a wife and son to be thinking of..

Yevette and Felix need him..

You just can't allow him to become involved... After everything the IRA put him through.. And after all he did to help you escape.. There is no way you want him tied to this..

"Yes it is. We need to meet.. You remember the place?" His serious tone tells you there's no avoiding him..

You sigh, remembering the rendezvous point you and Patrick agreed on for emergency meetings when you moved to the city.. It also means you will need to take care not to be followed.."Yeah, I remember.."

"One hour.." The call disconnects and you haul yourself to your feet, hurrying to get dressed..

You throw on a pair of jeans and a simple white singlet, pulling on your jacket and favourite sneakers before grabbing your phone and keys and heading for the door..

You try not to work yourself up too much about whatever it is Patrick has to tell you.. But you know it's bad..

He wouldn't have called you to meet in secret otherwise..

You're already beginning to feel light-headed and a little woozy, probably from all the stress and your stomach churns uncomfortably..

You lock the front door, turning around on the shadowy stoop to come face to face with an extremely smug Declan Darby.. Come to assess the progress of his request no doubt..

You squeak, almost jumping out of your skin.. "Ah, fuck!"

"Going somewhere, baby?" He smirks..

You glance around the empty street.. There is nobody around.. Nobody to witness.. Terror claws at your heart..

"What are you doing here? I told you-"

He steps forward swiftly, his large hand wrapping around your throat as he pushes you back and pins you to the door, with a tight strangling grip.. "uh-uh-uh.. See, you don't tell me anything, baby.." He leans down to look right into your eyes, you see him pull out a small black burner phone which he slips into the tight front pocket of your jeans.. "Except for when I ask.." His grip tightens even more, completly cutting off your oxygen.. Crushing your throat..

"P-Please.. D-Declan.." You choke out the words, reaching up and attempting to pry his hand away, taking a gasping breath as he releases the pressure.. At that same moment, he brings his lips to yours, hard and demanding.. His pointy tounge pushing into your mouth..

You don't reciprocate.. But you don't stop him either.. The moment all happening too fast for you to follow.. You can't think, you can't move.. You're trapped.. Frozen.. He pulls away, with a sick smile..

"When I call, you answer. Or I'll do to your sister, the same thing I did to my father.. You remember that.. Don't you?"

You nod, swallowing hard.. You'll never forget the look of horror on Malcom's face the moment the poison began to take hold..

How his skin turned white.. Then red.. Then blue.. His eyes bugging out, yellow and red vessels bursting deep within them.. Blood and vomit everywhere, the stench of death in the air..

Oh, Malcom suffered alright .. Declan made sure of that..

With that, Darby turns and strides away down the path, jumping into a fancy black Porche, revving the engine loudly and peeling off down the street..

You hold your breath until the second he is out of sight, when a powerful wave of nausea washes over you.. You turn, doubled over, throwing up the entirety of your dinner in the garden bed, the bitter bile rising in your throat faster than you can fight to keep it down..

"Oh.. ow.." You whimper, feeling your heart beat irregularly in your chest, a sharp painful flutter before your knees buckle and your vision begins to flicker and fade and a faintness clouds your mind, you collapse into a black hole that swallows you up from beneath..