“A decent fee, too.” Unplugging the phone, Hendrix tossed it to me. “There’s not much on there, but you’re one of two targets.”
I immediately began to scroll through the phone, the texts starting from around six weeks ago. Which meant Cedric had been hired first.
UNKNOWN NUMBER:
Target: Geraldine Hoffman. 50k. Alive.
Cedric:
What about dead?
UNKNOWN NUMBER:
She is to remain alive.
All other measures permitted.
There was no communication again until a few days ago.
UNKNOWN NUMBER:
>Link<
Ryder Finn. 10k. Dead.
See details above.
Cedric:
With pleasure.
“Fuck!”
Hen laughed. “Understatement of the year.”
“I’m totally worth more than this!” I muttered, offended. “A lousy 10k? For me?” I clicked my tongue. “The link’s expired. Do you think you can see where it went to?”
Hendrix’s fingers blurred over the keys. “I’ll have to work on it and let you know.”
“Thanks, bro,” I said, standing.
“Not yourbro.”
I didn’t look up from the phone. “Tell Elena I’ll be over for dinner soon.”
He scoffed, “You’re not welcome.”
“Love you, too.” Placing the phone in my pocket, I gave Hendrix a salute that was in no way sarcastic before stepping out.
I immediately scanned the tables, searching for a golden blonde dressed in fucking pink. She wasn’t there, and descending the stairs I searched the edges, expecting her to be by the bar.
“Hey mate, have you seen a short blonde wearing a pink?—”
“She’s over there,” the bartender cut me off, gesturing over my shoulder.
I glanced over, finding Violet smiling and laughing with two men and a woman. They were stroking over her exposed shoulders and playing with the edges of her dress.
Great.
