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I close my eyes and inhale before a slew of insults can fly out of my mouth. “One not date, with no inappropriate behavior. In exchange, you cannot taunt, stalk, kidnap, or kill Jensen for an entire week.”
“Deal,” he says without even thinking it over. “You’re starting to rub off on me, Lucky. You have brought me good luck since you’ve been here—maybe I need to keep you around after all.”
“Thanks, I think.”
“Don’t thank him. Do you want to know what’s worse than him wanting to kill you? Him being nice to you.”
The Jester laughs. “Just imagine our future. Me, you, and our pet human, and a man who cooks amazing food.”
“What the fuck does Rue have to do with this?”
The Jester smiles. “Did you really think I didn’t know? The only reason I haven’t tried to kill him is because he seems just as allergic to feelings as you. As long as he serviced your needs, you didn’t look elsewhere. It was a win-win for me.”
My mouth falls open. If he knows, does that mean other people here do as well? I thought we were being discreet.
“Fuck off before I change my mind about willingly spending time with you.”
“Okay, I have planning to do. But were you thinking something chasey and stabby, or something more private and intimate?”
“How does something in an open grave sound? Just in case you piss me off, then I can bury you when we’re done.”
Jester nods. “Perfect, I will line it up with Noa.”
He doesn’t wait for me to respond; he pushes off the doorframe and leaves.
Fuck my life.
Rue
For days I have been grappling with what I should do. I don’t normally get involved in other people’s drama, because what they do is their business, but there is something about Jensen that I like—he is a nice guy. But why would a nice guy withhold something from a client? It’s the question that finally led me to Clay’s office.
He looks up from his desk when I walk inside and raises a brow when I close the door. I wordlessly drop the flash drive onto his desk, and he looks at it, then back at me.
“You want to tell me what that is?”
“If I knew, I wouldn’t be here.”
Clay leans back in his chair but doesn’t pick it up.
Outside his office, someone walks past talking into their radio, their voice growing softer after a few seconds. I reach over and push the drive closer to him with one finger. “I think it belongs to Jensen.”
This gets his attention, since Clay is always suspicious of newcomers. I know he would have done a background check on Jensen already. His eyes rise to mine. “Think or know?”
“I took it out of his jacket.”
Clay smirks at me. “So you stole it?”
I shrug. “Technically, I borrowed it.”
“Does he know?”
I roll my eyes because of course he doesn’t know. Clay is fucking with me right now.
“No, and if I give it back when I’m done, it’s borrowing.”
Clay stares at me for a few seconds, and I meet his gaze. He eventually reaches for the drive, but he doesn’t plug it into his computer, the same way I didn’t—we’re not fucking stupid. Whatever is on that drive has a man like Jensen willing to die rather than hand it over. Someone is willing to pay the Jester a lot of money to retrieve it. You don’t simply plug something like that into your laptop and hope for the best.
Clay rolls it between his fingers. It is nothing special—black, plastic, and small enough to disappear in your palm.
