“No.”
“Even if it gets you killed, or worse, arrested?”
“Adrian, I said no.”
“What do you mean no?”
“I mean I want you to kill my access.Don’t get overly excited.It’s not forever, but for the next seventy-two hours cut it all.”
“You’re serious.Why?”
“You guys weren’t wrong.I’m not thinking straight.I want to make sure these bodies don’t find a way to screw her over.”
“Then why not forever?”
“I don’t think I’ll be able to do it.It’s better for her, for us, if I stay away but how do I go back to living in the dark when I’ve tasted the light?”
“I’m not going to pretend to understand your obsession with this woman, but tell me what you need and I’ll do it.”
“Cut my access and don’t turn it on again for seventy-two hours.Not even if I ask before then.And send the shit you left out about her boss.I’ll do the rest.”I hang up my phone and slide onto my Harley.My phone vibrates in my vest breast pocket and I know that Adrian has sent me the information I need, but it’ll have to wait.
The early morning air whips past me as I weave my bike through the neon-lit streets of Vegas, the lights, like the city, never shut off.The roar of the engine beneath me is a thrilling pulse against the backdrop of the city's ceaseless energy.The Strip blurs into a kaleidoscope of colors, each casino and hotel vying for attention with dazzling lights and towering signs.
It’s only when my ass is on this seat that I feel an unparalleled sense of freedom, the constraints of my work dissolving into the wind that races by.It's just me, the road, and the steady heartbeat of my Harley, the rhythm of the city syncing perfectly with my own.
I head to the warehouse, our usual spot for poker nights, but tonight, it's the privacy I'm after.There's a phone call I need to make, one that can't risk eavesdroppers or unintended listeners.As I dodge taxis and tourists, the energy of Vegas fuels me, its vibrant pulse a mirror to my own restless spirit.
I park behind the warehouse.I’m sure there are witnesses that see me and my brothers coming and going on occasion, but I highly doubt any of them would say anything if asked.A select few of our clients have been here when we invite them for poker night, but aside from that no one has seen the inside of this building except family and the Accord.We don’t keep anything here but a plastic table, folding chairs, and decks of cards.We try to keep this place clean, but on occasion we use its privacy for our more sensitive matters.
I sit in one of the flimsy chairs and pull out my work phone, not the burner I talk to Melinda and my brothers on.This one is for one thing only: ending human life.I dial the number.I don’t keep a single contact or call log in this phone and lucky for me, my photographic memory keeps the only one this phone ever dials safely locked up in my head where no enemy or cop will ever reach it.
“Yeah?”Sava’s voice answers before the first ring merges into the second.
“When will you be in London?”
“I just stepped off the plane.What are you tracking me?”
“No.Just hoped I got lucky.I know you make frequent trips.”
“Hoped?”
“Yeah, shocks the shit out of me too.But hope is my theme this evening.”I almost smile and that surprises me.I wasn’t sure my face knew how to do that.“The text you just got lays out the details.I need confirmation when it’s done.”
“I don’t work for free, Cassius.”
“I’m well aware, Savannah.How much?”
“I don’t want your money.I want you in my debt,” she says.Favors in my line of work are something I go out of my way to avoid.I don’t want to owe anyone a damn thing, especially when that thing is likely going to be the exact thing I’m asking Sava to do now.Melinda’s impeccable face flashes in my mind and any argument I was going to make dissolves.
“Fine.”I grit out.I owe Sava now, something that will cost me a lot more than money.She can recall the favor at any time, for any reason, and I will repay her.I have to.There’s no take backs in our world.Your word is the only thing you got that’s worth a fuck.I lose that, I may as well put a bullet in my own brain.
Sava hangs up first and I let the enormity of what I put in motion sink in.
I must’ve dozed off because my work phone’s ring echoing through the mostly empty warehouse jolts me awake.
“Yeah?”I scoot up in the dumb as fuck folding chair, confused, yawning, and grateful I didn’t fall out of the damn thing.
“I sent you a new file.”
