Page 31 of His Puppet

I flick my gaze to Blade. “I’m thinking.”

“Think faster.”

Pressing my hand to my forehead, I close my eyes once more. It shouldn’t be that hard to get into the house. I just need the right ruse. What to do after that is the hard part.

I think for another minute then drop my hand and open my eyes. A sigh rushes past my lips. “Can I have an hour and a half?”

Blade waits a few moments before responding. “Why?”

I sit up straight, staring at the house. This will be the hardest lift of what you could generously call my career, and the stakes are outrageously high. I can feel myself falling into a trance, that magical state you go into when you’re determined, and I let myself sink into it.

I have a plan.

“Because I’m going to need a change of clothes.”

11

Emily

My arms pump as my legs fly over the concrete sidewalk. I would actually take a jog to get the glistening skin I’m wanting, but Blade has restricted me to two blocks around the mark’s house. So, I’m in a sprint, passing a dark-skinned man mowing a yard and holding my hand out in a small wave when we lock eyes.

When I round the corner onto the mark’s street, I slow my pace to a jog and then a walk as I eye the house. I search the curtains and don’t see anyone peeking through.

Down the street, Blade sits in his Jag and watches me. I can’t see his eyes from here, but I can feel them. Just like I could feel the eyes of Luis and Mr. New York when I ran right by the SUV one block over.

I pause at the base of the walkway leading up to the mark’s porch, and I take a deep breath. Adrenaline courses through my veins, lighting my senses up like a Christmas tree. I love the fucking feeling. The adrenaline, the intensity. The greater the challenge, the stronger the feeling. If my life wasn’t at stake, I might be enjoying this.

I walk to the front door at a brisk pace and knock four times like this is urgent. I tug my sports bra down just a little to expose more cleavage, careful not to wipe away the little sheen of sweat that’s there. You might think that men would be repulsed by sweat, but from my experience, just the right amount is carnal to them.

My hair is in a ponytail, with just the right amount of mess. Yoga capris hug my waist, exposing my stomach, and my bra is a size too small.

I imagine the guy looking through the peephole, so I turn to look down the street as if I’m watching for something. The door swings open, and I turn my head to meet the man’s eyes. I lift my lips into an apologetic smile.

“Hi,” I say to the middle-aged man standing before me. “I’m so sorry to bother you, sir, but do you by any chance have a gray Schnauzer?”

He has the first signs of gray hair sprinkled into his thick mane. He’s large and muscular, with broad shoulders and a chest that looks like a brick wall. His face is kind of meh, and he’s clearly trying to compensate with his body. It’s working.

The man’s eyes dip to my cleavage, but only for a second. He meets my eyes before a flash of embarrassment flashes on his face at being caught. He gives me an awkward, bashful smile. “No, I don’t.”

I let out a relieved sigh and tilt my head back, placing a hand on my heart before meeting the man’s eyes yet again. “You’re the sixth house I’ve been to that’s opened the door, and every time I’m relieved to get a ‘no’.” I look down the road and point. “The poor little guy got hit by a car, and I’m trying to find the owner.”

“Is he…?” he asks.

I nod, flinching as I do. “Yeah, he didn’t make it.” I force out another sigh and hold my face in my hands. Biting my lip, I will my eyes to water only to rub the moisture away before dropping my hands with a sniffle.

A dry laugh bellows out of me, and I shake my head. “I’m sorry. I’ve kept it together so far, but my heart is breaking. The thought of a little kid stumbling onto their dead pet is…” I give my head another shake. “I’m trying to find the owners before that happens, but I guess it’s time to call animal control.”

“I’m so sorry,” the man says, frowning. “I can make the call for you. You said it’s just down the road?” He cranes his neck to peer down the road, and I take a step to the side to get in his line of sight.

“Yeah, just down there,” I say, stabbing a thumb in the direction of the fake roadkill.

I take a breath and make a production of wiping sweat off my forehead while the man takes another peek at my cleavage.

“Thanks for offering your help,” I say, smiling. “It’s so hot out here, I’m starting to feel like I’m having a heat stroke.” I laugh, and the man chuckles with me, despite me not saying anything remotely funny. That’s a good sign.

He turns halfway and gestures toward his open door. “Well, would you like a glass of water? I’d hate to have to call an ambulance along with animal control.”

I smile. “Actually, yeah. That would be great. Thank you…”

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