𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐲

Chapter 85

A/N: very important chapter (and slightly complex). Good luck!

— Chapter 85 —
Lowest of the Low

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E L L I O T

As promised, it wasn't long before Han and I arrived at our destination—a deserted laneway behind Jesse's convenience store.

"What are we doing here?" I asked irritably.

Han ignored me as he pulled his helmet off, leaving it to hang off one of the handles of his Ducati. He pulled a set of keys from his pocket and sauntered in silence in the direction of the garage, the same place where the store had its deliveries dropped off. Beside it was a locked door that I'd never paid attention to.

As Han twisted his key and opened it, I started to wish that I had. The room inside was dark. The perfect setup for a trap.

"What is that?" I asked, referring to the pitch-black void he'd just unlocked.

"A basement underneath the shop," he replied monotonously. "My office, technically. I'm the only one with keys to the door." Ushering me forward, he said, "Now hurry. We don't have much time."

Staring at the basement door, then back at him, I tried not to scoff at his orders.

"You first," I demanded.

Han dug his teeth together and rolled his eyes.

"Shut the door behind you," he said to me as he went ahead into the basement.

Following after him, I descended down the creaky steps, making sure to close the door before I did. Warning alarms blared in my mind as I tried to adjust to the darkness. Han must've noticed my trepidation. Before long, he flicked a light switch on the wall somewhere, and the entire basement was soon illuminated with neon white lamps.

The sight in front of us made me freeze in place on the stairs.

Black oil drums. Huge ones. A dozen of them, at least, lined up in three perfect rows at the center of the cement room. Chemical warning stickers were slapped to each drum. Aside from a few thin shelves, the odd filing cabinet or two, and a mess of toolboxes in the corner, the rest of the space was completely empty. Nothing like the office I'd pictured in my head.

"What is all this?" I stuttered.

"Blitz."

"I don't understand."

Han bumped his knuckles against one of the barrels. "Each of these oil drums is full of blitz powder, shipped to Boston six months ago under Midas' watch."

"This is all of it?"

Shock wasn't strong enough of a word. I was paralyzed. This entire room was full of Blitz—just sitting here, waiting to be discovered. If Noah was here in my place, or James, they'd definitely kill Han right now and burn this place to the ground.

"Half," Han answered me flatly. "Sage and her dealers have the rest of it."

"Why do you have all this?" I asked in a panicked rush. "I mean, why is it here?" Has it been here the whole time?