Probably better to think of her as little as possible.
I wrapped my arms tighter around Leo, focusing on the feeling of her broad back against my chest, the vibration of the engine’s purr, the woosh of the wind through the ends of my hair…
Eventually, we drove into downtown New York City. Unlike a lot of the other places we staked out, this place was right in the heart of the metropolitan center: no lonely warehouses, no dark back roads to hide victims.
Bold choice for a bunch of sex traffickers.
But then again, big cities bred their own kind of anonymity. As I watched the hundreds of corporate drones file down from their high-rise offices in matching business casual attire, I realized just how easy it would be to lose someone in this crowd.
The worker bees weren’t the only ones occupying this city, though. As we wove farther from the office buildings and toward the bars and restaurants, I saw every kind of person, from the opulent and wealthy to the plainclothes locals just trying to get some air.
Hell, three of Violence’s finest don’t draw a second look here.
A fact that my lovers seemed to be counting on as they took a hard left down a dark alley that certainly wasn’t meant for bike traffic.
I clutched tighter as they bounced over a pothole, parking their bikes at the far end of the alley behind a raised metal staircase.
Popping off my helmet, I locked eyes with Spencer. “What are we doing here?”
She nodded toward the end of the alley closest to us. “Watching that.”
Opposite the direction we’d come from, the alley opened to another busy city street, this one home to a bustling gentleman’s club. Other than in the movies, I’d only seen a strip club in real life once: a squat, dingy little building in a strip mall off the interstate.
But this place was nothing like that. Over the art deco ticketbooth of an old abandoned opera house, the marquee was lit up with old school script letters that read ‘Gemini.’
I looked at the men in suits handing over cash at the ticket book, then down at the mesh shirt and baggy jeans I’d thrown on. “So what’s the plan for getting me in there exactly?”
“We’re not going in,” Leo mumbled, leaning up against her bike and peering down the alley. “We’re watching to see who comes and goes.”
“Watching? Again?” I grumbled, pacing across the width of the black pavement. “When are we actually going todosomething on one of these missions?”
Leo scoffed. “You’ve done plenty on missions, if you’ll recall. We have to be selective about our punishments. Don’t want the pile of bodies to lead back to our door.”
Spencer raised her eyebrow. “Wouldn’t have guessed you were so bloodthirsty after your reaction to Fight Night…”
I shrugged, kicking at a loose piece of gravel. “Maybe I just need to be the one in control of the bloodshed.”
The word brought back flashes of unwanted memories — the things I’d come on this mission to forget about. I shuddered, trying to shake the thoughts away. But the gesture wasn’t lost on my lovers.
“Good thing about surveillance runs?” Leo murmured, “Gives us a chance to talk. Are you going to tell us what happened between you and Dom back there?”
The question hit like ice to my veins, but I rolled back my shoulders like it was nothing. “If I say no, are you going to stop asking?”
“Probably not,” she frowned. “So you might as well rip off the bandage…”
“You know you can trust us… right, Bunny?” Spencer eyed me warily.
“I know.” I met her gaze. “I wouldn’t be alone with you in some shady alley if I didn’t trust you. That being said… I could be more helpful if you would tell me what exactly it is that we’re looking for.”
I batted my eyes sweetly — it was a thin ploy, and I knew it. But I was just hoping that after seeing the state I was in at the house, that they would take the bait and let me drop it for now.
“I could use a little bit of a distraction…” I pouted, honing my efforts on Spencer.
And before Leo could push back, Spencer caved. “There’s someone The Oracle has been keeping their eye on for a while now… they call him Boy Prince. The guy Grant mentioned.”
Leo sighed. “We have a general description of what the asshole looks like: dirty blond hair, expensive haircut, weak jaw. But as you can see…” she gestured down the alleyway toward the dozens of suits matching that description, “That could be any fucker within a ten block radius of this place.”
“Helpful intel as always,” I scoffed. It was a mystery to me how any of my captors felt comfortable operating on such spotty info.
