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Brennan sighs. “Young girls. He runs a very exclusive escort business. Men with particular tastes in young girls seek him out.”
“Are you going to kill him?”
“Not today,” he mutters. “We need to follow him and make sure that all of the girls are safe. Mr. Z has only just come onto this case, so we have to gather all the intel we can. With you not having much training, he will probably just send one of his other teams in to finish the job. I’m not sure you’re ready to kill anyone.”
“Is that something I will have to do?” I question. I don’t know if I’m a killer. I want to be; I want to watch the life drain from Mr. Z’s face but imagining and reality are very different things. Maybe it’s something that was programmed into me, like a light will flicker on and I'll go into killer mode.
“Nope, that’s what you have us for,” Kai says, kissing my cheek. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
We all double check that we have everything we need and head outside. The guys all pile into the van and I jump into the front seat. Trace is already buckled into the driver’s seat, keys in hand. He looks over and gives me a tight smile. “I think we need to talk.” he says and I nod.
We need to hash this out; I have lost so damn much and I can’t lose him. I was willing to take out anyone in my way to find him. Even with all of the secrets, he might be my best bet in spilling the ones they're now keeping.
The sun has long since set as we drive into the city. The lights from the buildings, shining brightly like the North star, illuminate all around us. I will never tire of the beauty that the city offers.
Trace takes an unexpected turn and pulls the van over into a side alley. Everyone piles out, including Trace, and I follow suit. Brennan hands everyone a small, clear, rubber type earpiece and we all put them in. It’s a little uncomfortable but extremely necessary so we can all be in contact with each other if we need to be.
The guys waste no time and start to walk towards the building. Trace reaches out and grabs my hand. I stop in my tracks and turn back to face him. “Please be careful. I can’t lose you again.”
“You can’t lose something that’s already lost.” I tell him, slipping my hand from his and turning my back on him. I so badly want things to go back to the way they were between us, but that girl is nothing but a memory. I’m not her anymore. I keep promising myself that I would talk to him and hear him out, but the betrayal is still too strong that snapping at him just comes naturally.
I walk out of the alley and glance around at my surroundings, but I don’t look back. I don’t think I can handle whatever emotions are on his face. All of the guys are already positioned inside so I open the large glass door and see the sign for the bar. I make my way inside and scan the floor, making a note of all the exits. Old habits die hard. I do another once over of the interior space noticing that none of the guys are visible.
“Your mark is at the bar. Go up and order something girly.” Trace says through my earpiece.
I make my way through the tables, mostly filled with middle aged men. I see the way their eyes follow me, the way they try to justify their thoughts about someone so much younger than them. I’m sure in their minds their wives are no longer young and looking at me makes them feel like they could be youthful again.
“Is this seat taken?” I purr. Martin looks up at me, his baby blue eyes sparkle as he gives me a once over.
“No, be my guest,” he says, his lips curling slightly in the corners.
“Thank you.”
The bartender walks over to me and smiles. “What can I get for you?”
I tap my pointer finger on my lips, noting how Martin’s eyes watch the movement. “Vodka lemonade please.” He nods.
“Put it on my tab,” Martin says, and the bartender nods. I don’t miss the look the young guy gives him. I can imagine him thinking I must be a whore, going after a man double my age. The bartender snaps himself out of his thoughts and rushes away to prepare my drink.
“That's very generous of you.”
“Anything for a pretty girl.” I giggle at his comment, playing into his game because that's what this would be for him.
“Martin,” he says, offering me his hand.
“Lola,” I hear Trace say through my earpiece.
“Lola, nice to meet you.” I murmur, placing my hand in his. My eyes widen slightly as he lifts my hand and places a kiss on the back of it.
The bartender comes back, places my drink in front of me and walks away. I extract my hand from Martin’s hold, pick up the highball glass and take a sip.
“So, what do you do Martin?”
“I’m a very successful businessman. What do you do Lola?”
“Tell him that you’re in high school.”
“I’m a senior in high school.” His eyes widen and his interest piques. He turns fully facing me now, raising his hand to flag the bartender.
