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Hurry. I want to slaughter these bitches.

Switching back to the update screen, I let out a groan, bringing my hands up to rub my eyes. Fuck. Fifteen percent. If I were at home, I’d be on the dedicated line and this update done by now. My heart sinks at the thought of her turning me down again. I don’t know why she won’t say yes. Admittedly, we did meet through a questionable source. But still. I think we are close enough now that she should trust I’m not a murderous psycho.

At best, I’m just a psycho’s assistant.

29

For once, in what seems like forever, I was able to bid in an auction without real competition. I won every piece at manageable prices…and I hated it. I never thought I would actually miss having Ethan’s interference. Apparently, I do. I’m some sort of masochist. Craving the competition, hating the losses, and missing its presence.

Not a word from him since last night when he texted he was back in town. My phone’s messages remain dominated by Litza and Zarya, discussing some vacation Zarya’s embarking on.

“This whole liking someone thing is for the fucking birds.” I look down at Gerald peering up in understanding. When I run my finger along his silky head, he nudges my hand before making a beeline to the door. The thud at the bottom of the stairs followed by skittering lets me know further crashes are to come as he works out the unspent energy of the day.

Sighing, I walk to my closet, then pull out the wig and violet dress I have earmarked for tonight. As much I would actually enjoy Ethan’s company, I don’t want my preparations to go to waste. Everything is set in the field I picked out for my flower. All it needs is the crowning touch. Letting out a giggle, I lower myself onto the bench at the vanity. It takes me a bit longer to get the wig fitted correctly with the final touches in place.

My mind operates on autopilot as I drive to the warehouse. With each flash of the dotted white line on the asphalt, my mind hones on tonight’s creation. Each stroke of the blade, each prick of the pin, and the fall of every dripping petal, plays like a movie in my mind. My body practically vibrates with excitement as I switch cars and slip my tools into the trunk, then go to the bar.

Thirty minutes later, Charlie walks out of the back room. A pretty brunette with mussed hair follows him. She snatches the money he holds out. Even in this light, I can see the bruises forming around her neck.

He looks around, and our eyes meet. I find nothing but coldness in his gaze. Shit. Maybe I shouldn’t have been ignoring his texts. Everything I know about this man screams pathetic alpha male who wants what he can’t have. When I break our stare, he turns and begins speaking with the waiter. The young woman behind him shuffles, clutching her purse as she rushes to the exit. My heart sinks as I watch her leave.

Sorry sweetie, I should have gotten here earlier.

My nerves immediately ease as he turns from the bar holding two drinks. His lips turn up into a confident grin, and I can’t help but think of the twists that grin will make by the time the night’s over.

The drink in his right hand appears in my line of sight, blocking most of the room from view. My gaze travels up his arm to meet his cold eyes. Fine lines appear around the edges as his lips turn up into a cocky smile. Our eyes remain locked on each other as we take sips of our respective drinks. The sweet, smoky taste of the bourbon hits my tongue. Struggling to hide the grimace, I roll my shoulder as he lowers into the seat across from me.

“We really must stop meeting like this,” he croons as his gaze flicks to the drink in my hand.

“How do you propose we meet then?” To emphasize the feigned brattiness in my tone, one eyebrow lifts in a mocking salute.

His lips flatten for a moment before he leans over the table.

“Now see that…” He points his finger at me. “Is a loaded question…” His hand lowers onto mine as his gaze fills with lust.

The touch alone coils my stomach in revulsion, but I maintain my pouty outward appearance.

“Possibly.”

Opening my hand under his, I pull my lips into a full smile. His finger runs the length of my palm playfully, taking hold of my hand. This isn’t going to take nearly any coaxing at all. God, he’s pathetic. I almost don’t even have to try. It nearly defeats the purpose of hunting. Nearly. Taking another sip of the drink, the running thoughts in my mind distract me from remembering to conceal the grimace.

“Do you not like your drink?”

“I’m not much of a whiskey type of drinker. I prefer something a bit more subtle. Gin?”

His face knits into a knot of disgust for a moment before he holds his hand out.

When I place my drink in his hand, he huffs a light laugh and rises from his seat. “Let me get you a gin and tonic.”

Seeing my opportunity, I scan the room. Satisfied no one is paying attention, I place my bag on the table in front of his drink, blocking it from view of the bar. Cameras in the corner of the room cover the table, but thankfully, Litza’s confirmed the quality is low. Provided I don’t make fast or wide movements, it shouldn’t raise any red flags. I grab the syringe of Zarya’s mixture from my bag. I press the plunger into the drink. Using the syringe, I stir the whiskey. I slip my hand into my bag, exchanging the syringe for my lipstick, hoping it looks like I’m just touching up my makeup. The timing is perfect as Charlie begins walking back to the table.

Holding the drink out to me, he lowers into his seat. When I bring the glass to my lips, the comforting citrus scent hits my nose. Smiling I raise my drink in a toast to my new flower for a job well done on his drink choice. He takes a few long sips of the drink graced with Zarya’s magic. Smacking his lips, he turns to look around the bar. His attention falls to me as he leans in over the table. The warmth of his hand on my calf causes my spine to straighten for a moment. His fingers travel up my leg. Nausea begins building at the back of my throat at the intimate touch. I reach a hand under the table, stopping it from going further.

“Now, now. I’m not so easy. Besides, we can’t do that here.”

He snorts, dropping his hand from my thigh. Glowering, he tosses the remainder of his drink back. He stands to leave, sending my heart into a gallop. If he leaves now, I’ll never get another chance. Especially because the fucking moron just drank the whole fucking glass. I grab his wrist before he has a chance to turn and leave.

“I said we couldn’t do that here.” Widening my eyes, I plaster on the sultriest smile I can manage. I need to get him out of here before he starts drooling. The last thing I need is a random fucking phone call to the authorities. My life is messy enough, thank you.