Todos os capítulos de Daddy's little agent: Capítulo 61 - Capítulo 70

Mateo’s address is in the part of town that’s residents of Brighton Falls would rather pretend didn’t exist. It’s the kind of seedy places I’d have sought out before. Even now, there are more than a few people in the shadows swapping money and more for a brief moment of peace.I’m here.I should want some of it. I’m surrounded by so much drugs with more cash I usually had to buy what I need. But the lump lodged inside my throat, the unnamed fear of what I’m going to find in Mateo’s place doesn’t leave room for anything more.Eyes are on me. I can feel them burning holes into my head.These kinds of places always have people looking. Word must have gone round already. I’m not in uniform, but my skin is healthier, hair is too. That kind of thing attracts the worse kind of attention in parts like these.I’m not worried about them. I’ve been them. If there’s any one who can handle them, it’s me.But what I don’t understand is the eyes I feel but can’t see.Every time my head whips back, a

Getting shot was always a risk that accompanied the job. When I signed up for the academy, that was the least of my worries. The job gave me purpose. Finally something to look forward to instead of the constant drift I lived through.In comparison to how I lived, getting shot seemed like a one in a million chance. And felt like small mercy at the time.I’d done well– not great– at target practice.But being face to face with the real thing is incomparable to anything I’d ever faced in real life. And I’ve been chased by a speeding car.Surprisingly, my first thought is the fact that I’d foolishly thought I was safe on the road. I almost laugh at my own delusions. This is Brighton Fall, the city is The Devil’s Playground.Fuck me.I immediately through myself in the console, between the driver’s side, to protect the man from my ending. I close my eyes, bracing for impact, and hoping I’d see Hana’s face in my final moments.But the face that flashes through my mind is the one that has be

REMY TEMPLETONRIGHT BEFORE THE ACCIDENTGray was right. That’s not a anything to lose our heads over. Gray is always right. From the moment we knew each other over a hundred years ago, the silent man has always been right. Win often jokes Gray winds up right all the time because he was always thinking, and being afraid of acting.Whatever his methods are.He’s always right.Though he would never hear that from me. He was the first to note when things started getting strange. We thought it was the agent, we watched closely. But he was only meeting with his partner, trying to decode the passage I intentionally switched out just to fuck with his mind.The writing means nothing. I’d changed the language from English to our language– Gehannic– there’s no way he’d ever know that though. It was fun lose his mind over the language.Gray had shaken his head at me in the shadows, calling it a waste of time before dissipating. I wanted to put out his hypoc

CALEB DOHERTYMy fingers are barely feeling so I wouldn’t know what the weight of the sheets are as I push them off me. Or try to push them off me.The whole room choruses, hands pushing me back into the bed.“I have to go to her, Chels would never be randomly unreachable.” I protest. While that is a half truth, seeing as she’s an agent with a double life, being randomly unreachable becomes our way of life at some point.But she would never up and leave without informing her partner.Unless something happened.And something did happen. I got into an accident. Rhodes is by my side, I’d like to think she’s committed to the bit and should be here.I know Chels, how she’s cared about me this short time frame we’ve known each other. Something must happened to her. I draw my lower lip into my mouth, teeth sinking into the soft flesh.Did the agency call her back after seeing my life in danger? Unlikely. The agency would not pull us out simply because of this.

Remy snatched his shoulder back after ten minutes, letting my head hang. I complain about it, but truthfully, I’m surprised he lasted that long. It’s a miracle he let me actually plant my head on his shoulders in the first place.Laying on shoulder felt better than I expected. He has lots of space on those massive shoulders, enough to lounge around. I shouldn’t let myself hope but if it happens again, it must mean my prayers reachd heaven.His eyes roam my face, then my midsection, searching for blood or a tell tale sign that I’m in pain. If I was, I’d never know. The only thing I know right now is the feeling of his shoulder against my cheek.“Get your things,” he says, stepping away from me, taking with him the smell of smoke. I wasn’t joking when I asked why he reeked of smoke. Like he walked through fire. Not campfire kind. The raging kind that can produce fumes that toxic and overwhelming.“You, get my things.” I say knowing fully well my things consist solely of the clothes on my