Page 79 of Marx Girl


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I smile. “Thanks, see you then.”

“Bye, Didge.” He hangs up the call.

I smile at Ben. “And that is how you get shit done.”

He shakes his head. “No. That is how you embarrass the fuck out of yourself with a locked-on earring story. Whose earring locks on?”

I burst out laughing. “I have no idea.”

“Where the hell did that even come from?” He frowns.

I shrug. “But you do have to admit, it would be pretty bad to have an earring locked on.”

“Stop talking, Bridget, and please, don’t ever mention a locked-on earring story to anyone else,” he warns dryly.

I laugh, and shake my head. “I won’t. I save all my good stories just for you and Cam.”

We’ve eaten our breakfast and are waiting for my take away coffee. Ben’s hand is placed protectively around my waist, and I am leaning on him as he stands behind me. I’m online on my phone trying to book flights to L.A. “Coffee for Bridget,” the girl calls.

I smile and take the coffee, and then Ben and I walk out into the street. A man charges through and bumps into me, sending my coffee flying out of my hands.

“Watch where you’re going!” he screams.

Ben glares at him. “Apologise,” he commands.

“Fuck off, man,” the guy sneers.

At lightning speed, Ben grabs him by the neck with one hand so he’s in a chokehold. “Apologise to the lady now!”

My eyes widen in horror. “Ben, it’s… it’s okay,” I stammer as my eyes flicker between them. Holy shit, passersby are staring.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” the man starts to chant as he turns blue.

“She’ll have a cappuccino with one sugar,” Ben growls.

“Yes, of course,” the man croaks, and Ben lets him go, letting him scurry into the café.

I roll my lips and smile at the ground as we wait.

The man soon reappears and hands a coffee to me. I nod. “Thank you.”

Ben glares at him and throws his arm around me. “Let’s go.”

We turn and walk up the street and I peer up at him and smile.

My man is a bad ass.

16

Bridget

At 8:30 the next night, we knock on Cameron’s door. The flight was only six and a half hours, but it got delayed for two hours and then another two hours and then another two hours due to wind, so effectively we have been in transit for over fifteen hours, including check-in time. What a nightmare. We haven’t even checked into our hotel room yet. We came straight here from the airport. Unfortunately, we couldn’t push this back because Cam is going to New York tomorrow night after work.

I need a shower, a nice meal, and a good night’s sleep—basically I need everything except to be here in some bad Russian spy novel.

This whole thing is making me very jumpy.

“Where is he?” I snap as I peer through the glass on the side of Cameron’s front door. “He’d better not have forgotten,” I whisper. I knock again. “For God’s sake. He’s probably banging some slutty nurse.”

“Will you relax?” Ben sighs.

I turn to him. “Ben, I’m tired and hungry. I’m not in the mood for this fucking shit. If you want to live through tonight, I wouldn’t speak again if I were you.”

He smiles down at me.

“What?” I snap.

“That smart mouth of yours is going to get you punished.”

I roll my eyes. “If you try anything on me tonight, I swear to God it’s go- time.”

The door opens in a rush. “Hey.” Cam smiles as he pulls me into an embrace. He looks up at Ben and laughs as he points to us with a shake of his head. “I fucking knew you two were bonking like rabbits.”

My mouth falls open and Ben winks.

We follow him through to his kitchen.

“What the hell is with the earring?” Cam smiles as he pours us a glass of wine each and passes them over.

My eyes meet Ben’s, and I sip my wine. “Well…” I swallow the lump in my throat. “Can you keep a secret, Cam?” I ask.

He frowns. “You know I can.”

“Ben worked for the government for a while in a division of the army.”

He raises an eyebrow as he listens.

“And they microchip you.”

Cameron’s eyes flicker between the two of us.

“But we want it removed now that he’s left the army.”

Cam folds his arms in front of him and raises his eyebrows. “Is that so?”

I nod way too quickly. I need to try and make the story sound convincing.

“Now, tell me the real fucking story,” he says flatly.

“Some fucker has gone rogue and tried to kill me, and I don’t who to trust, and I don’t want them being able to track where I am,” Ben replies without hesitation.

Cam’s face falls.

“Help us, Cam,” I plead. “We don’t know who we can trust, and I know you can get it out.”

“Where is it?” He frowns.

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