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When I reach my destination without being stopped, I check to make sure no one is inside before locking myself in a stall. I turn off the sound on my phone and open the folder. It takes a moment to get the right kind of balance, but I finally spread the pages across my left arm while I use my right hand to snap pictures. I take multiple shots of each one in case anything turns out blurry.
I’m gone for a few minutes, but when I get back to my desk and set the files down, Trevor doesn’t act like anything is unusual. He picks the folder up, examining both sides before he starts glancing over the papers.
I already have an external hard drive hidden at home with a few pictures on it, even though it goes against our policies. But I can almost guarantee that this folder will look different tomorrow, and so will all the digital files in our system.
If not tomorrow, then Wednesday.
Which means there’s more than one dirty agent lurking around this office, taking bribes from someone.
Whether that’s the Estradas or the Maldonados, I can’t say, though I know it’s one of the two or both of them.
I won’t get caught up in that bullshit.
I won’t sully my hands with blood money or sell myself out to wear fancy shit.
Trevor can make deals with the devil, but he won’t drag me down with him.
I want to kill Tico.
I won’t... Because Preston Whitley used the favor I owed him to request Tico’s freedom.
It was a request I’d stupidly agreed to before Preston told me where and who Tico was.
But now that I know who he is, I can’t let the opportunity pass me by, which works well for us. Tico and I have a mutual agreement.
A very expensive agreement.
He gives me all the insider information he can find on his grandfather, and I ship him off to some Caribbean island where he can prance his cute ass around in a speedo all day.
Because yeah…
Tico may have two last names, but one of them is Estrada.
Over the last few weeks we’ve met in some weird situations... Tonight takes the fucking cake, though.
I stare down at the strappy red monstrosity I’m wearing and slap my steering wheel in frustration. This fucker has me nearly naked, getting ready to walk into a rave unarmed.
Almost unarmed.
I manage to hide a single small knife against my side, wedging it between a strip of scaled red pleather and iridescent latex bullshit.
As I climb out of my car, I drop a switchblade into my boot, but it digs into my ankle bone, so I’m forced to take it out. I toss it on my floorboard, covering it with the jacket I had on. There’s no way I can run or even walk properly with it in my shoe.
Fuck Tico.
I think this is his way of trying to get me out and about more... But he also has a proclivity for shaking his ass in the middle of a crowd of people. He was an exotic dancer in a past life, probably the present one too.
Half of my ass is hanging out of the bodysuit, barely contained by the straps and mesh and sequins. My boobs spill from the top, showing more than a little nipple. And the neckline plunges all the way to my navel.
You know... Just my usual Tuesday night attire.
I’d feel less exposed if I were completely naked. But I suck it the fuck up and stride toward the door of the abandoned office building. Lights flash in the windows and the bass thumps under my feet, even through the pavement. It’s that fucking loud.
I’m an hour early, and I’m deeply regretting being overly punctual.
The man at the door checks my ID and nods me inside. This will be the most pleasant encounter I have while I’m here. I appreciate his silence even more as the darkness wraps around me and the music assaults me.
I’d prefer to be jumped.
