No longer the target of Gotham's underground criminal organization, 21 year old Ianthe Thatcher has set herself free of the burden that put a price on her head.
But Jonathan Crane, her murderous lover, has just been imprisoned under dark, severe ch...
Once seated inside the black-leather interior of the Mercedes, Jonathan, who was sitting passenger, opened the glove box and pulled out a crisp, sealed package.
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I gently took it from his pale, scratched and blood-caked hands. Softly wheezing, Jonathan rested his head against the window and almost immediately drifted off. All I could do was look at him as I tightly squeezed his lower thigh, reassuring him I was here—and partly reassuring myself that he was here, too.
I had to get him out of here.
Opening the package, the first thing I pulled out was a note. I carefully studied the cursive text.
"Your new home is located at 100 W 54th St, PH #1.
The building is ours and the staff are our men. Tell the doorman that you just got back from playing cards. He'll understand.
Now, this suite was purchased for you, Mrs. Rebekah Van der Woodsen, and your husband Mr. Jack Van der Woodsen. These are now your identities. Do not forget them.
Do not leave the suite unless told to do so. People will be looking for you...for now. We'll manage the situation. Until then, stay put.
Call me if you get bored.
Signed, Yours Truly"
Fucking Rhys. What a cocky bastard.
Placing the slip of paper aside, I reached into the package again, this time pulling out two wallets and two sets of keys.
The wallets, both made of a fine, smooth leather, separately contained each of Jonathan and I's new, fake IDs, and what looked to be credit cards. I guessed that the keys accessed the penthouse.
Was this really going to work? Laying low? False identities? I mean, I was a nobody, so maybe I had a shot...but Jonathan? A renowned, unorthodox psychologist? I...
A violent fit of coughing from Jonathan snapped me out of my thoughts. I needed to get him to the penthouse. I'd think through this mess later.
✣
I was in awe upon arriving at the apartment building where Jonathan and I would be staying. We were in the heart of the city. The stone, intricately carved tower reached infinitely into the cloudy night sky, dark shadows etching into its fine architecture.
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