Crack in armor

Ethan’s car idled outside the Lennox Gallery long after Kai had sent him away. He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, staring at the dimly lit windows of the building. Something was gnawing at him, a gut feeling he couldn’t shake.

Kai Lennox wasn’t just evasive; he was protecting something. His guarded demeanor wasn’t just an artist’s eccentricity—it was deliberate, methodical. There was something behind those piercing green eyes, something Kai didn’t want anyone to see. Ethan had dealt with people like him before—individuals caught in the crossfire of their own bad decisions and the larger, more dangerous forces they were entangled with.

His phone buzzed on the console.

“Cross,” he said, picking it up.

“Status?” The sharp voice on the other end belonged to his handler.

“Nothing solid yet,” Ethan replied, his tone careful. “I’ll need more time.”

“You don’t have it,” the handler snapped. “Black Thorn is preparing something big, and Lennox is one of the only leads we have. Find out what he knows, or we’ll bring him in another way.”

Ethan clenched his jaw. “I’ll get it done. Just stay out of my way.”

He hung up, tossed the phone onto the passenger seat, and made a decision.

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THE NEXT DAY

Kai sat in the back corner of a bustling café, a steaming cup of coffee in front of him. He wore sunglasses despite the dim lighting, his hood pulled up as though trying to disappear into the crowd. Across from him sat a man in a crisp black suit.

“I told you I needed more time,” Kai said, his voice low but tense.

“You don’t have more time,” the man replied, his tone icy. “The boss expects results by the end of the week. No excuses.”

Kai clenched his jaw, his fingers tightening around the coffee cup. “If you push too hard, it’ll fall apart. You know that.”

“Then don’t let it fall apart.”

The man slid a small envelope across the table. Kai stared at it, his stomach twisting. He didn’t need to open it to know what was inside—coordinates, details, another job he didn’t want to do but had no choice.

The man stood, buttoning his jacket. “Deliver, Lennox. Or we’ll find someone else who can.”

Kai didn’t look up as the man walked away, his polished shoes clicking against the tiled floor.

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Ethan watched from the bar, his gaze fixed on Kai as he sat alone in the corner. He’d been tailing him since early morning, staying just far enough back to avoid suspicion. The meeting he’d just witnessed had been brief, but it confirmed one thing: Kai was involved in something dangerous.

He waited until Kai left the café before paying his bill and following at a safe distance.

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THAT EVENING

Kai’s studio was dimly lit when he arrived, the faint glow of a desk lamp casting long shadows across the cluttered space. He looked at the envelope, his fingers itched to rip the paper to shreds, to scream, to do anything but paint another damn message for Black Thorn. But he knew better.

When you worked with Black Thorn, there was no quitting.

Intead, he tossed the envelope to a nearby table, he picked up a brush and turned to the blank canvas in front of him.

The familiar rhythm of painting helped calm his nerves. With each stroke, he felt a little more in control, a little less like the walls were closing in.

But the peace didn’t last.

A faint creak echoed through the studio, the sound of a footstep on wood.

Kai froze, his brush hovering midair. Slowly, he turned his head, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Emily?” he called, though he knew she never stayed this late.

No answer

“Who’s there?” he demanded, his voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through him.

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