Me
You mean me or the roleplaying?
Lola
You.
I need to talk to him away from work.
Me
And jump him?
Lola
No! But I think I need to let him know I'm into him and you, and then figure out where I stand with him.
It is later in the week, and Lola's fucking words haunt me.
Haunt. Me.
It is bullshit.
As me, I can't ask her a fucking thing about the furtive glances when I'm in the office, which isn't often.
It is not me avoiding her this week, it is work for theSyndicate and trying to find who is after her, what they want, and just how much harm they might mean her.
In my world—my father's world perhaps more so—no one keeps tabs on a girl whose father did some bad business with certain people and, after his suicide, had the government agencies all up his dead ass and his kid's live one, unless they do mean harm. Serious harm.
It is just that we are having trouble finding who.
There are people to look at, from Rebecci to even my own fucking father. But the trail?
It is muddied.
Not me, not Cade, not even fucking PI man himself, Silas, can clear it up.
We will.
But the longer it takes for a move, the worse it just might be.
Unless, of course, I'm seeing things in shadows where no things are.
Fuck, maybe Dad's grudge is just your average, run-of-the-mill, all-encompassing, long-term grudge. And maybe Rebecci wanted dirt on the others that my idiot college buddy collected, and maybe he wanted to make sure the girl was going to keep her nose to the ground.
I don't know. And I don't like not knowing. It pisses me the fuck off.
And why the fuck hasn't Lola come to me to ask to bang her brains out?
Okay, she probably wouldn't do it like that, but she wants me.
I unlock some seemingly firewalled and high-security measures in the small project that has grown out of the main one Cade and I are doing for a shady business guy.
Maybe now she's had a taste of just how good it is with me, why come looking for someone else?
Taste of me meaning Alex, and the someone else being me.
Fuck, I'm even starting to confuse myself.
