Silent Lines. Conner Leon whimpered behind the gag, and I wasn't in the mood to draw this out. The backroom of Warehouse 14 stank of oil, blood, and old lies. Concrete walls boxed us in, sweat beading along the collar of my shirt despite the winter chill bleeding in through the cracked window. The hum of fluorescent lights overhead buzzed in time with the pounding in my head. Leon sat duct-taped to the old steel chair like a fish flapping on the dock, wild-eyed and half- pissing himself. New recruit. Six weeks in. Barely long enough to memorize his access codes, let alone betray the family. And yet here we were. Liam paced behind me, boots scuffing on the floor, cracking his knuckles like the sound alone might shake answers loose. But I held up a hand. No need. Not yet. I crouched in front of Leon, elbows on my knees, voice low and measured. "Let's make this easy," I said. "You passed on a route. A time. We walked into a trap. You wanna tell me who gave you the order?" He shook his head violently, cheeks blotchy and red from the gag's pressure. "I... I didn't know!" he blurted out around it, breath ragged. "It was just a burner. Texted me a time. Said to be at the docks... and to take you out. That's it!" I blinked. "Take me out." Of course. I stood, slow and steady, the tension thick enough to choke on. The silence stretched, heavy with what I already knew. Liam stepped in closer and murmured behind me. "I pulled his comms. Message came in two hours before we left the compound. Geo-tagged. Marked for tracking. They knew exactly where we'd be and when." My jaw ticked. And then my phone buzzed. Not my work line. Not the encrypted burner Liam didn't even have the code for. No, this was my personal, my real one. The one that used to ring with laughter and fire and trouble. The one only a ghost would still remember. I pulled it out slowly, gut already turning cold. Unknown Number. One message. "Kill him by the end of the week please, darling. xx" I stared. No name. No signature. No emoji, even. Just five words and a kiss that made the air leave my lungs. Darling. Two x's. Like a kiss and a secret. My chest went tight. Not from fear. Not from adrenaline. From knowing. It was her. The only woman who ever saw me clearly and chose to vanish anyway. No one else would dare speak to me like that. Not even Liam. Not even my mother. Years. Years of silence. Years of shadows. I'd felt her presence, like a flicker in the wind, like a sixth sense whispering through my spine. But this? This was direct. Deliberate. She knew about Leon. Before I did. Which meant she hadn't just stumbled across this. She'd been watching. Quietly. Carefully. Just like always. Still playing ghost. Still mine. I looked down at Leon again. He was crying now, realizing I wasn't hesitating. I wasn't flinching. Because this wasn't just about betrayal. It was personal. "You picked the wrong crew to fuck with," I said quietly. He opened his mouth, maybe to beg, maybe to lie again. I didn't care. My hand moved before my conscience could speak. One shot. Straight to the head. Clean. No mess. His body sagged forward, slack and silent. Liam didn't flinch. Barely blinked. "That from her?" he asked. I didn't answer. Still staring at the phone, thumb hovering over the screen like it might burn me if I touched it too fast. The glow of the message lit my face. Final. Certain. She was still watching. I typed back, slow and sure. "It's done, x" I watched the message deliver. Then I locked the phone and slid it back into my coat, heart steady even though the world underneath my ribs was turning inside out. No more guesswork. No more silence. She had made the first move. And now? Now the game had started. I turned and walked out into the light, the scent of cordite and steel still clinging to me, my mind already ten steps ahead. She was close, and now, she'd just let me closer. The city was quieter than usual as I pulled into the driveway after a long day out, headlights cutting clean lines through the fog creeping along the curb. The house loomed dark, shadows pooling beneath the high windows, cold and indifferent like always. I sat behind the wheel a moment longer, the engine ticking as it cooled, but my mind was racing miles ahead. I stepped inside, the door shutting behind me with a thud that sounded too loud in the stillness. The usual emptiness of the house pressed in, quiet but not peaceful. The scent of old leather and bourbon lingered in the air, a reminder I wasn't alone in this world, just alone in this moment. I poured a glass of whiskey and settled into the chair by the window, phone on the table, the screen dark and silent. No response yet. Seconds turned to minutes. I stared at the glowing screen, thumb itching to type again. Should I push? Demand answers? Or wait? The need clawed at me, answers, clarity, a name, a reason. But the woman behind the message? She thrived in shadows. Patience was her weapon. I wanted to break through the silence. To drag her into the light, no matter the cost. But I also knew better. So I sat there, glass half-full, heart full of questions, and waited. Waiting for the ghost to decide if she'd come back out of the dark. 1/2 "We drinking again tonight?" Liam said standing in the doorway. I simply held up the bottle to him but he placed it down. 'Come on, the boys have organised pizza and poker. Might help take your mind off things." I glanced over, the weight of the day settling deeper into my bones. Poker and pizza sounded like a hell of a lot better than sitting here with my own thoughts. But the ghost in my pocket, the message still glowing on my phone, made the idea of distraction feel like a lie. Liam pulled a chair closer and sat down, eyes sharp but easy. "You're not fooling anyone, man. You've been a damn ghost yourself lately, pacing, brooding, waiting on a message like it's the only thing keeping you alive." I gave him a crooked smile. "Maybe it is." He shook his head, but didn't push. Instead, he tossed me a pack of cards. "Poker it is, then. For the night. But tomorrow? You gotta move on this. If someone's in your head like this, you don't wait." I nodded, drained but grateful. I picked up my phone again, thumb hovering over the keyboard. Another message wouldn't hurt... maybe a subtle prod. But the silence that had followed the first message warned me to be careful. So, I slid the phone face down on the table and took a long pull from the bottle. Tonight, I'd let the cards fall where they may. Discover our latest featured short drama reel. Watch now and enjoy the story!