Chapter Sixty-Eight: Pulling Strings

Elijah Pov.

This was bad.

Really, really bad!

My hands plastered to the sides of the vents, and I stayed as still as I could. The room had grown silent, and at the angle, I was at, I could barely see the other man’s eyes peering into my hiding place.

I was too scared to move, afraid the slightest noise would echo.

My father stood up then, his chair screeching over the floor. “There is an odd odor, why don’t you check it out?” He prodded at the other man, and the stalky guy nodded.

His thudding steps were drawing closer to the vent.

Meanwhile, my lanky ass was scrunched up like a pretzel in the small space. I couldn’t budge an inch.

I saw tan fingers rest on the other side of the crate.

Any second now, he’d be looking right at me.

His knuckles churned white when they slipped through the cracks. The grate creaked under the pressure, and my ears throbbed.

Click.

“Is there an issue here, gentlemen?”

Zuri?

I heard the sound of her heels, and the hand on the grate fell aw