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“Jace! You still in Brighton?”
There’s a pause on the other end of the line, then his cautious voice, “Hey, Lu. How do you know?”
I laugh, mostly because I’m suddenly nervous.
“I just saw you a minute ago! I’m here shopping. Wanna meet up? I’m on Brighton 4, ocean side.”
“I’ll be right there.”
I’m excited about the surprise meeting, then open Google search and type in “BNVD-51.”
My breath hitches when I scan the search results. There are no variations for what the code stands for, absolutely none, all the results bringing the same thing—military-grade night vision goggles.
I raise my eyes from my phone, my heart pounding, my stomach twisting as I see Jace, wearing jeans and a T-shirt, walking toward me through the crowd, his smile wide.
Elite unit, the Russian man’s words echo in my head.
Salesman, my ass.
1 “? ?? ??? ? ??? ????????” —(Russian)“How do you know him?”
2 “???????”—(Russian)“Where from?”
3 “???? ?? ????????.”— (Russian)“Mom is from Belarus.”
4 “?????????. ????? ????? ????.” — (Russian) “Pretty one. I can tell ours.”
5 “?????????” — (Russian)“Pass it on?”
6 “?? ?????, ?????????!” — (Russian)“So long, pretty one!”
24
LU
I can’t makesense of what I learned about Jace, but I keep my mouth shut and my eyes on him.
We have lunch at a small Uzbek joint in Brighton, and Jace says he’s going home too. But instead of taking the train, he calls a car service.
“It’ll be so much quicker by train,” I tell him. “It’s traffic time. We’ll get stuck for more than an hour if we take a cab.”
“So we’ll spend more time together.”
He smiles mysteriously and winks.
And my heart winks.
But despite the excitement, an eerie feeling settles inside me at the thought that one of the plot twists in my new novel just came true.
I’m falling deeper for Jace. I’m not sure it’s a good thing, but I can’t help it.
He’s ingrained in my daily life. I’m attuned to his moods. And I feel him pulling back. His cautious glances when we first met have turned into open stares. Yet, he doesn’t make any moves on me. Doesn’t flirt much.
When we get home, I go to my room to work. And I can’t get the encounter in Brighton out of my mind.
Does Jace sell military equipment? Is that even legal?
Suddenly the memories of his tattooed body return like a flood, the conversation with the Russian guy. “You know what he does?”
