Displaced - Book One of the Alternate Reality Series

Chapter 28

Mike didn't need superhuman perceptive abilities to discern James' anger, but he considered asking if James were okay nevertheless. This was more to get his attention, or rather, to get his attention away from Alice and Victor.

Here at the Clover, Mike and James sat thirty feet from the couple, and James wouldn't stop staring at them.

Mike pursed his lips. Tonight's success depended on secrecy, something his partner didn't seem to appreciate.

James kept his own mouth tight. Fucking hell. Victor having a great night out is insulting, literally.

With the couple not far, Victor's laughter stretched across the room, and James knew that Victor was directing the laughter at him. What's more, he didn't need superhuman perceptive abilities to discern. Then when Victor let out another raucous laugh, James considered pulling his pistol, strolling over there, then tapping Victor on the shoulder and...

"You okay?" Mike asked.

James turned and stared.

Mike tried not to smile. He knew the question was pointless.

Seconds later, James' hard look dissolved, along with his focus. "He has cameras inside his apartment. Mary said they're everywhere, stashed in all the good hiding spots. Why do you think that is?" With Mike silent, James' glassy eyes cranked over. "He's gonna kill her tonight. And we're gonna let him. He's gonna kill her, and we're gonna fucking let him."

Mike worked around his jaw. "We're gonna let him, because that's our plan."

The response came out snappier than intended, and Mike immediately regretted this. With James on edge, he didn't need any nudging.

James jerked back. "I know," he fired in response, immediately regretting his delivery. He took a deep breath. "Look, I'm not going to sabotage our new plan. I'm just a little pissed right now, and I'm sure you can understand why." He leaned back, fingers coiled around his frosty glass of Guinness, the one he still hadn't sipped. "I just can't believe this. I can't believe that I'm right back in the same Goddamn position, orchestrating Alice's death."

Mike sipped his half-full glass. "If you want to leave, that shouldn't be a problem." James looked up, and Mike continued. "Really. Our plan no longer requires you being here. The recorders are ready, and we've visually identified the targets. The only thing left is tailing them back to Victor's apartment, which I can do on my own. When they get close, I'll send Kim a warning, and she has it from there."

James bit his lip. Mike was right. He didn't have to stay. But should he leave? Should he go back to real space and wait this all out? The thought tempted him, but after additional consideration, its attractiveness dulled.

James couldn't pinpoint why, but he needed to stay, something he found odd, because that meant watching Alice fall into Victor's pit of hell. But maybe he needed to experience this, to suffer through it, so he could say that Alice didn't suffer alone, if only in his mind.

"I'm staying," James concluded. "I need to be involved in this... to the end."

Mike nodded.

James finally lifted his glass, the cool thick liquids not having their usual effect. Maybe after a keg they would. "And how are you doing?" he followed, setting the glass down.

"Fine. Why do you ask?"

"I figured the radical change to your plan would've upset you something awful. I know how set you were on..." He jerked his head towards Victor's table, then surreptitiously ran a finger across his throat.