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“I know it is,” she sighed out. “But I need you to trust me, Phantom.”
“One condition. You have to record everything that happens.”
“But I… I can’t do that,” she stammered.
“I’m not talking about a video recording, although that would be helpful.”
Fuck. If I’d thought about it ahead of time, I could’ve dug into my savings and purchased some micro cameras for Samara to wear on her clothing. Clearly, that wasn’t an option now.
“I’m talking about an audio recording. You’d have to use your cell phone.”
“That may work.” Samara nodded as she considered it. “I’d have to put my phone between my tits, but just know now the audio might not be as sufficient as you need it to be. I can’t guarantee anything, but I’ll do the best I can.”
There was another option, but I wasn’t sure Samara would go for it. It all depended on how much she trusted me.
“Icouldhack into your cell phone and access the microphone, which would allow me to record anything and everything audible wise without you having to record anything.”
“You can do that?” she asked, widening her eyes at me.
I nodded. “I can.”
She raced down the hall to her bedroom, returning a moment later with her phone. She grabbed my hand and then slapped the device in my palm.
“How long until you can get it done?”
I couldn’t help but grin at her. “I’ll be back in an hour.”
Samara
12
Iwas nervous, so fucking nervous that I’d been uncontrollably shaking ever since Rhett handed over his keys to me. I hadn’t the slightest clue what was about to transpire tonight, but what I did know was that I had to get my story straight. I’d been practicing what to say since I left the academy over thirty minutes ago.
It was a trap. That much was definite. Which was the exact reason why I’d volunteered for this to begin with. Damien was a smart man and unlike the Ravagers, I was skilled in being able to see through his bullshit.
I fucking hated dresses. Hadn’t worn one since I was a toddler and had the circumstances been different, I wouldn’t be wearing one now.This dressthough, I actually liked. Kinsley helped pick it out. After the meeting with her father, we'd hit up the mall and a cheap restaurant located a few miles from the academy on our way back. In order to surprise and convince Damien tonight was a special, celebratory night, then I had to dress and play the fucking part whether I liked it or not.
Another twenty minutes or so had passed before I was finally pulling up atFishnets. When I parked, I took a quick peek at the time.
8:45PM.
I was fifteen minutes early.
I glanced up and around the dark, packed parking lot, unable to spot or make out anyone loitering around the premises. Breathing in hard, I checked my teeth and makeup before getting out of the car and slamming the door shut. I locked the door and kept the keys and my wallet securely tucked at my side.
I stepped inside, seeing the place overrun with both paying customers and hordes of familiar Outlaw faces posted everywhere. Luckily, they hadn’t noticed me when I walked in. No sooner than I took two steps away from the entrance, a random woman wearing a black crop top and jeans, with the name of the bar printed in fancy letters across her chest, approached me. “Welcome to Fishnets. How can I help you?”
“Damien Reyez, please.”
In an instant her pretty face fell, paling quickly as she swallowed, like hearing his name had left her utterly petrified.
“Of course,” her voice shook as she gaped up at me, offering me a watery smile. “Please, have a seat at the bar for me. I’ll be back in just a moment.”
The place was slammed with bodies and as much as I wanted to decline the offer, the bar was the only spot with seating available, two to be exact. After sighing silently to myself and giving the woman a light nod, I made my way over to one of the empty barstools and sat down. Not even five seconds later, the guy sitting next to me was trying to sweet talk me into letting him buy me a drink.
The air was already thick with heat, sweat, and since there weren’t any policies against smoking; cigarette and weed smoke, too. As the guy opened his mouth again, my face reflectivelyscrunched with revulsion. He smelled like he’d just finished chain-smoking a whole pack of Newports.
“Seriously, dude, back off,” I snapped as he tried to lean even closer to me. When he didn’t listen, I shoved him back and withdrew a blade, the sharp tip ready to slice his meat-stick off if he dare tried to touch me.
