“What?” I asked, my pulse hammering in my wrist and throat, not used to being caught so off-guard. My hand was still holding the knife I’d pulled out of my cup holder. A’s gaze cut there for a brief second, unbothered, before it was looking back out of the windshield. “See… I got this strange feelin’,” he started again. “That you’ve been lying to me.” Shit. You don’t get as far as I got in life by being blind to the shit that was going on around you. Especially when that shit involved your work. So, yeah, I’d clocked the guys from the private investigator place. Sitting in their cars. Watching shit. Following people. I had to give them some credit. They were decent at their jobs. If I wasn’t looking for them, and I didn’t know who they were, I probably wouldn’t have noticed them. Different cars. Different clothes. The thing was, it was the men. Didn’t see Hope not once. It didn’t take a genius to realize what was going on. They’d gotten her to agree to the job, then took it
“What’d you mean then?” “That you’re going to fire us.” “Fire them, not you.” “They’re not going to go for that.” “Don’t see how they have much of a choice here. I’m the one with the money, ain’t I?” “Look, you’re trying to be rational. They’re not rational. All they’re thinking is that they don’t want me doing this job.” “Too fucking bad.” Her head hit the rest, her eyes closing. Frustrated. Looking for some patience. Something like that. To that, I let out a sigh. “Aight. What about a compromise?” “What kind of compromise?” “I go to your boys, we have a little chat.” “A chat? About what?” “About how when I say I want someone on my case, I expect that person working my case.” “I am on the case.” “Yeah, well, you need to be getting paid for it.” “What do you care? I’m here. I’m working on it.” Honestly, it was a good question. The problem was, I had no fucking answer to it. At least not one that made any solid sense. If she was working the case—and, clearly, she was—the
I didn’t sleep. I rarely did. But I was up and across town at five to nine, making my way through the office doors, finding the guys of Hope’s crew all standing around having coffee that smelled burnt. “Mr. King!” Peter, the boss, greeted, eyes wide. “We weren’t expecting you.” “Nah, didn’t think you would be,” I said, looking ‘em up and down. “‘Cause you wouldn’t want me dropping in when you’ve been lying to me, now would you?” Honestly, the panicked fucking look they all shared was worth dragging my ass over to their office. I guess you didn’t want to get caught screwing over a client in general. But even more so when said client is the head of a fucking cartel. One known for snuffing out anyone who fucked with them. But, fuck, they looked like they expected me to pull out a gun and drop them all right there. It’d been a while since I’d seen something quite so fucking funny. So I was going to go ahead and have a little fun. “See, I don’t know who the fuck you think you’re
“Fuck,” I hissed, dropping into my car, slamming my head back on the rest. That was just wishful thinkin’ on my part. ‘Cause no matter how much I wanted to say that all I saw in Hope was a dogged kind of determination, there was no denying I liked looking at her. And I liked all that sass too. I figured, given a chance, there would be a way for that spark of anger to get fanned into a different sort of flame. It couldn’t happen, of course. But that didn’t stop my mind from wanderin’. And other parts of me from getting ideas too. It was fine, though. ‘Cause we were going to be keeping a professional sort of distance. Or, at least, that was the plan… Naomi I didn’t know whether to admire him, or want to wring his neck. Because the man’s operation was fucking perfect. And I didn’t say that easily. I was able to see even the flaws in the organizations my family ran or were in. But after a week on his case, not only was I hitting brick wall after brick wall, but so were the ot
“Looks like you’re never here.” “I’m not,” I said, shrugging. “Vi has been here more this week than I have.” “Workin’ on my case?” he asked. To that, I sighed as I leaned against the wall. I damn sure wasn’t going to sit next to him. Or think about why I didn’t want to do so, either. “Trying to,” I admitted. “Problem?” “Yeah. You run a really tight ship.” “Not tight enough,” he said, shaking his head. “Has there been a new development?” I asked. “Another link got broken,” he said. “Am I supposed to know what that means?” “Means a reliable system I’ve had in place suddenly ain’t so reliable anymore. And the only way that’s happening is if my snake is slithering around some more.” “You’re going to be cryptic about this, huh?” “Yeah.” “Can I at least know if this broken link was broken stateside, or somewhere else?” “Somewhere else,” he told me. “Could your snake be… somewhere else? Is that why it’s so hard to find him?” “Nah,” A said, shaking his head. “I don’t do busin
What? No. I mean… no. You seriously can’t be talking about A,” I insisted. “Oh, please. Even you have eyes and ears. He’s hot. And that kinda slow cadence of how he speaks, mixed with that little raspy, rumbly voice? God,” she said, picking up her piece of pizza, so she could fan herself with her grease-stained paper plate. “That’s a little much,” I said, though I’d had similar thoughts about his voice recently, so I couldn’t object too much. “But, no. The favor is actually that you just… don’t tell our friends and family about this. I mean about living with him and acting as his maid,” I clarified. “I don’t care if they know about the case. What?” I asked when she stared at me for an uncomfortably long moment. “You know, for someone who genuinely doesn’t give a fuck, you really do care a lot what everyone else thinks,” she said. Okay. Well. Ouch. Violet wasn’t supposed to be the tough-love cousin. She’d always been a bit like me. A little hardass. Definitely kind of detached bec
Just walking up the winding drive, I saw no less than nine of them. Did he have them inside? Would he be watching me as I pretended to clean his house? Because I damn sure wasn’t going to actually be doing it. I’d just made it up the front path when the doorThen there he was. In his jeans and black button-up, his gaze moving down my body, and I did not feel my skin warm where his eyes lingered. “Come on, mama, we gotta talk,” he said, jerking his head into the house, then moving out of the way. In a move I hadn’t seen coming, when I got close, he reached for the handle of my rolling suitcase, his tattooed hand covering mine. My gaze shot down, seeing the big, bold “AC” tattooed there. King Johnson . In case anyone he encountered was ever wondering what he did for a living. It took me an almost embarrassingly long second to yank my hand out from under his, then move into his house. And, yeah, I had no idea what I was expecting. But classy, yet understated, hadn’t really be
Good to know,” I said, nodding as I watched him move the backsplash back into place. “Got any questions so far?” he asked. “The dogs,” I said. “What about ‘em?” he asked, glancing out the windows surrounding the dining space, seeing two of them. One was on full-on guard dog duty, watching the trees. The other was on its back, wiggling its body in the grass. “Are they going to be okay with me being here? Getting mauled isn’t exactly on my to-do list this year.” “You’ll meet ‘em all. They don’t attack unless you climb the fence or I command ‘em to. You’re safe.” I was going to need to do all that meeting to be sure of that for myself. “Wanna check out the upstairs?” he said, motioning to the far side of the kitchen where I hadn’t seen the back staircase when I’d first glanced around, half-hidden behind a wall. “Yeah,” I said. “Is there anything else on this floor?” I asked. “Well, we passed the bathroom. Under the stairs,” he said. “And there is a basement. The door is hidden i