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Malice ignores her and looks at the man we think is the Enigma leader.
“Jonah Kent?” he asks.
The tall man sizes us up for a second, looking extra hard at Malice. I can’t blame him for that. Malice can’t help but look intimidating on a good day, and after the week we’ve had, that aura of violence that surrounds him is stronger than ever.
“Yeah,” the man finally says. He’s got a gravelly voice, as if he’s been smoking his whole life. “Why d’you wanna know?”
He takes a drag from his cigarette and then blows the smoke in our direction carelessly. I can feel the guys shifting around me, not appreciating the disrespect.
Everyone is on edge, and the tension in the air climbs up another few notches. Jonah is on his guard, and the people with him are too. I have no doubt that they’re all armed, and if we make a wrong move, this could turn bad.
“What do you want?” Jonah asks, cocking his head to the side and narrowing his eyes.
There’s a beat, and then Malice gives a little. “We have a proposition for you.”
“Nah.” Jonah chuckles, arching an eyebrow. “Not looking for work. You’d have to have a hell of a good ask to get me to move from this spot.”
“It involves Olivia Stanton.”
As if those are the magic words, Jonah’s whole demeanor changes. He goes from slouching against the front of the building to standing up straight, eyes serious. He takes one final drag off his cigarette and then stamps it out on the sidewalk.
“Come with me,” he says.
He leads us into the tattoo parlor and then straight through to the back.
The back room here isn’t as nice as the one at Sin and Salvation, but the vibes are different too. There’s a lumpy couch with cracked leather shoved into a corner, and a scratched and scarred wooden desk against a wall.
None of us go for any of the furniture.
As soon as the door is closed, Jonah turns to stare at us. “What the hell do you want?” he asks again. “And what does it have to do with Olivia Stanton?”
“We’re trying to take her out,” Malice explains.
“Why?” Jonah demands. “You don’t just go after a bitch like her for shits and giggles. What’s your angle?”
Malice gives him the quick version of the story. “She’s after one of ours. She’s already sent people after us twice, and she’s not gonna stop until she gets what she wants.”
“And what is it she wants?” Jonah asks.
“Me, dead,” I tell him. “She knows she won’t get what she wants from me if I’m still alive, so.” I shrug.
Jonah listens intently, and I can see anger burning in his eyes. It’s definitely anger directed at Olivia, but I have no idea what the story is there. It doesn’t seem like a good idea to ask.
“We heard you have beef with Olivia,” Malice continues. “And we could use your help bringing her down.”
Jonah rubs at his face, looking tempted. It looks like he’s about to say something, but before he can, the door to the office opens and a girl who looks about my age comes walking in.
“Oh there you are,” she says, cutting into the conversation. “I was—”
She stops short when she sees us all standing there, glancing around.
We might be about the same age, but that’s where the similarities probably end. This girl is badass looking, with tattoos up and down both arms and teal colored hair. She moves like she owns the place, and there’s something protective in her gaze as she takes the four of us in.
“What’s going on?” she asks.
“Quinn, I told you to knock when I have people back here,” Jonah says.
The girl—Quinn—shrugs. “Didn’t know you had people back here. But you could cut this tension with a knife. What’s up?”
