The Night of Seven by Nadia Siddiqui (read a book TXT) 📕

BESTSELLING AUTHOR

NADIA SIDDIQUI

Nathan Doe Book 4

The Night of Seven

Copyright

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2021 Nadia Siddiqui – All Rights Reserved

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication / use of the trademarks is not authorized, associated with or sponsored by the trademark owners.

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Table of Contents:

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

The story continues . . .

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Chapter One

S tefan.

This isn’t the sort of place that he wants to be after dark.

The street lights don’t work too well down here. The air is always sweaty and the sort of humid that works its way underneath your clothes, and you have to shower to escape the sweat. It’s a miserable sort of heat. Really, Stefan should be far more used to it than he is. He should be accustomed to the way that throngs of people can create such intense heat that it’s miserable to be around. Given the environment that he works in, that sort of thing should be second nature to him.

Only tonight, he’s not in the casino. He’s not out running errands or walking home to his small closet of an apartment. No, tonight he has something else that he must attend to. Something that he deems to have much more importance than anything else that he can do tonight. His shift ended a couple of hours ago, and his legs were weary from walking the floors all night long. However, he knew that missing this meeting could cost him dearly.

It’s too quiet, and he seems to be the only person around for miles. There’s no obvious noise coming from the insides of any of the slowly crumbling apartment buildings that surround him, just outside of the Las Vegas strip, down the direction that tourists are advised never to travel alone. He should know better than to be here alone himself. Stefan can remember a time in his youth when places like this would have been home to him. In his younger days, he would have walked up and down these streets without feeling the need to constantly be looking over his shoulder. He would have dared anybody to try him. It was rare for somebody that looks like him to get out of such a circumstance, but he was lucky that track and field carried him to college. Standing here today, he doesn’t feel as safe as he might have once. He doesn’t remember the rules, and he doesn’t want to be reminded of them either.

The man that he’s coming to meet is a friend of a friend, of sorts. The man has a rather nasty reputation that even Stefan, living as far away as he does now, has heard of. He is a cousin of a friend who can get him what he needs. Stefan walks with his arms wrapped around his chest, holding that envelope full of money close to his chest as he makes his way down the very specific list of instructions that he memorized earlier today.

How will he know it's him? He has never met this man before. He has to hope that he has that standing appointment that was promised to him. Stefan hopes even more that when he comes around, a stranger asking questions, he’s not going to be shot in the face on sight. He doesn’t want to die. Isn’t that the point of all of this?

Turning the final left turn, Stefan can see a man smoking down the street. He’s leaned up against the side of the building, not bothering to look up now that he’s not alone anymore. He’s wearing a large jacket despite the Nevada heat, but he’s also blocking the way of the buzzer that might gain Stefan entrance into the apartment. This must be the place.

The man says nothing as Stefan tentatively approaches, sweat working its way over his palms and a nervous lump rising in his throat. What if he says the wrong thing? What if somehow this is a setup? Perhaps this was all a mistake in the first place. The smoking man’s face is heavily pockmarked with acne scars or perhaps just actual scars. Stefan doesn’t want to think about how those might have been possible. It’s not until Stefan stops walking just feet from the other man that he drops his cigarette and puts out the embers with his shoe. Stefan isn’t sure how to start the conversation, but the man takes care of that for him.

“You the guy?” His deep voice does not seem to fit his body properly, but Stefan stammers and attempts to think of the right answer.

“The - the guy? I think so...I don’t…” If he is looking to make the situation infinitely more uncomfortable, he has absolutely succeeded.

The man in the large jacket gives Stefan a good once over before deciding that he’s not a threat, that anybody that looks that nervous is more likely to faint than attempt to