Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 78231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
“Which is someone working behind—“ Elijah started.
“I know what a fucking snake is, E,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Did he say why he thinks that?”
“He didn’t give a lot of specifics,” Liam said. “He mentioned some vague things about things getting leaked that shouldn’t have been if ‘all the holes were sealed up,’” he went on, air quoting the part A had said.
“Alright. That’s it?”
“Pretty much. We can’t go asking questions, but need to have answers,” Mike said. “Now why don’t you run along and tell the client what is going on, then take your ass home, so we can get to work?”
I wanted to snap back at that, but I didn’t say anything as I grabbed my wallet, took another sip of my cold coffee, and headed out the door.
The problem was, I didn’t have a phone number. Honestly, I doubted Mike and the guys did either. Andres struck me as more careful than that.
And I couldn’t exactly show up at his house either.
So my only choice was to wait for him to leave, hope he was alone, then follow him.
It took longer than I planned, and the hours sitting in my car made it harder to keep my eyes open with each passing moment.
Then, finally, his SUV was pulling out of the driveway. And aside from a big tan-faced pitbull with his head sticking out of the window, it looked like he was alone.
I followed him to the pier near the river, the one near the small marina that had always served as my own thinking spot, and I found myself both annoyed and intrigued by the fact that it was his as well.
It was the dog that clocked me first, and I guess that was probably why he always had them around.
“Egg, down,” Andres said, tone calm, but the dog immediately dropped down onto its belly.
“You named your dog Egg?” I asked, brows raising. I mean, sure, some of the people in my family had interesting names for their pets. But “Egg” was pushing it.
“Eg. Short for Egwene,” A said, waiting as if I had any idea who that was. “From The Wheel of Time,” he prompted.
“What? Is that a show or something?”
“It’s a book series,” he said, shaking his head.
“You named your dog after a book?”
“I’m gonna go ahead and pretend that didn’t sound less like You named your dog after a book and more like You actually read books?” he said, smirking, because he knew he had me there. “What? I can’t be a drug dealer and be literate?”
Again, there was no hostility in his tone. He was calm, even though he thought he was being insulted. I had to give him a bit of grudging respect for that, I guess.
“The one from earlier, Val, was named for Valjean,” he told me when I said nothing. “From Les Mis,” he prompted when I drew another blank.
On the list of things I might have anticipated happening when I finally got to talk to Andres, being made to feel completely uncultured had not been at the top of my list.
“That’s great. But not what I am here to talk about,” I said.
“Whatcha here to talk about then, lil’ mama?”
“Don’t call me that,” I said, but it didn’t have the usual snap to it that it would normally have. That it should have. Because I hated that pet name. Right? “And I’m here because I needed to tell you okay.”
“Okay?” he prompted.
“Okay, we are taking the case.”
“You,” he clarified, taking a few steps closer, and Eg just stayed where she was, watching her owner go. “You are taking my case,” he said, tucking his chin a bit as he got close, so he could keep eye contact with me.
“Right. Yeah. That’s what I meant,” I said, shrugging. “Obviously. Whatever the client wants, right?” I asked.
Something flashed in his gaze before it dipped, but it was gone so fast that I missed it. And did his gaze just shoot down to my lips? No, that made no sense.
“Aight,” he said, nodding. “Good. We’re good then,” he said.
“Yep. We’re good,” I agreed, nodding. “Do you want to give me any more details?”
“Nah, mama, I trust you,” he said, shrugging, then patting his leg, making Eg pop up and trot to his side.
And then… he was gone.
Into his SUV.
Then out of the lot, leaving me standing there.
I should have felt relief.
He’d bought my lie.
But all I seemed to feel right then was, well, guilt.
Guilt.
It made no sense.
I didn’t have any loyalty to the man. Hell, I didn’t even like him.
Yet there was no denying the queasy feeling in my stomach, and the way I felt a little clammy and uncomfortable.
With a sigh, I made my way back to my car, deciding to order a shitton of food to drown that queasiness with.