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“A rush job, huh? That will cost you.” I hear him smirk.
“Money isn’t a problem. Just get me whatever you have. You have exactly one hour.”
“Like I need that long,” he scoffs, sounding offended. “I’ll call you back in ten.”
It’s the first time my lips actually form a smile all day.
Hale Rhett might not like to get his hands dirty like I do, but he’s the best in the game when it comes to hacking into places no one wants others to take a peek at. His forte is finding shit people want to keep hidden in the shadows, and he gets paid a pretty penny to bring those same secrets to light. In our line of work, there are plenty of people who prefer to pay a ransom to destroy a man rather than just killing him off. Sometimes I wonder if my way of doing things isn’t a mercy.
I’ve seen what Hale can do with just a push of a button.
If there is anyone who is going to help me find Layla, it’s going to be him.
I’m barely out of Charleston when my phone rings with his incoming call.
“That was way too easy,” he says the minute he comes through the line.
“I don’t care how easy it was, just give me an address.”
The line goes quiet, raising my hackles.
“Hale!” I shout impatiently.
“Give me a minute. I’ve never seen you like this before. It almost seems like you care. I thought cold robots don’t have hearts.” He chuckles.
“I swear to God, Hale, if the next words out of your mouth aren’t an address or a phone number or something, my next stop is your place where I’ll fuck up that pretty face of yours just for wasting my time.”
“Ah, there he is. Gratuitous violence has always been your defense mechanism.” He continues to laugh. “I’ve already hijacked your GPS with the address you’re looking for, asshole. I’ll expect my twenty grand in my account by the end of the day. It was just too damn easy to ask for my usual fifty. You’re welcome.”
I don’t even care that he hangs up on me, too eager to follow the GPS direction to my girl.
He’s right though.
I’m not acting like myself, but that’s not new.
Since Layla came into my life, the Alaric of before has been nothing but a distant memory.
I do care, and that shit, however frightening, can’t be helped.
I’m in this now.
All in.
When the voice of my GPS tells me I’m heading toward Hell’s Kitchen, my foot pushes down on the gas pedal, cursing under my breath. Out of all the places she could be in New York City, this is where she’s been hiding.
It’s a miracle I didn’t get pulled over with the way I sped through the city just to get to what looks like a run-down diner where only the locals would be stupid enough to eat. Unfortunately, not knowing where Layla was has made me a little crazy, so I do the unthinkable—I get out of my car and waltz into the diner, grab a table at the corner, and wait.
If this is the address Hale got me, then Layla either works here now or is living with someone who does. For all our sakes, it better be the first scenario, since the thought of her living with anyone, a man most likely, will end up coaxing out an angrier version of the possessive beast inside me.
Then shit will really hit the fan.
Just as that thought starts to take hold of me, it instantly vanishes as if the sun finally parted the dark gray skies from my eyes, shedding light and warmth into my cold existence, all because I see her.
My Layla.
Holding two bowls of soup in her hands, she comes out from the kitchen in an ugly waitress uniform, with a twinkle in her green eyes and a bright smile on her lips.
Wouldn’t you fucking know it, my heart stops.
