Chapter 42 Drake

• DRAKE
• I turn the SUV onto the drive, which curves downhill toward an underground garage. A guard recognizes the vehicle waving us inside the gate, and shutting it behind us, locking the car in a dark, dingy concrete box. It’s sound proof, with the best ventilation money can buy. At the far end, guards stand around a man chained to a chair, wearing a black hood over his head.
• “What do we know about this guy?” I ask, stopping directly in front of his chair, ensuring the headlights bleed through the black cloth. Regardless of the situation, and the crimes I’m about to commit, I can’t shake the feeling that there are places I’d rather be. A person I’d rather be with.