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Rodin didn’t run, but he moved fast. They were watching, and he wanted the security of the house. He needed to work through the thoughts screaming in his mind.
He didn’t trust Cat, not for a moment, but knew there was truth in his words. He didn’t lie outright, preferring to make implications and wrap his statements in double-talk. The man played his own game, adapting the rules to suit himself.
Just as Rodin did. Just as so many others did. Everyone was out to get what they wanted.
Like those following him. They wanted their pay, and so they wanted Rodin dead. They were professional, and they would bide their time. They would wait for Rodin to put himself in a position of weakness.
Like sitting in one spot for too long. Like becoming complacent.
Once he reached the house
