POV: Damien
I arrived exactly three minutes late.
I didn't do it because I was messy or because I miscalculated or got lost. I did it because I knew Silas hated waiting. I wanted him to feel that tiny bit of frustration before he even saw my face.
The old transit station looked like a skeleton picked clean by the salt and the wind. Big concrete ribs stood open to the air, and rusted train tracks cut through the cracked stone. The ocean breathed heavily just a few feet away. Silas called this "neutral ground."
There is no such thing. Every corner of this place belonged to someone who wanted me dead.
I got out of the car alone.
I didn't show any weapons. I didn't bring a line of guards. I didn't have an army backing me up. It was just me, my boots hitting the concrete with a loud thud
