I scoff. “No.”
“Then why do you want it?”
“Reasons.”
He faces me, the embodiment of wariness. “What reasons?”
I meet his stare head-on, leaving every ounce of emotion out of my voice. “Mine.”
My brother watches me for a stretch of time before shaking his head. But as he resumes his departure, he calls out a string of numbers.
With his back turned, he misses my evil grin.
CHAPTER 10
LUNA
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” A young guy growls the greeting a second before the legs of his chair slam down on the concrete.
I interrupted him playing that balancing game kids in school always did when they were bored and their chair wasn’t attached to their desk.
Not the best position for a man keeping watch.
“I’m here to see Mike.” Giving the guard any information is generous on my part when I could’ve easily brushed past him before he thought about standing. But I don’t want to play a round of tag, where this teenager might decide to win by pulling a weapon.
“He doesn’t just see anyone. And you can’t go in there.” He shoves up from his seat, blocking the door in an unimpressive show of acting as a wall.
I sigh, shaking my head at this boy. Eager to be part of this criminal element, but already messing everything up. He’s clueless, to the point where I’m tempted to correct his mistakes.
Don’t relax on your watch.
Don’t admit to a stranger that you know who they’re talking about.
Worse, don’t tell them the boss is in the building.
But I’d rather not start a habit of training people to be successful criminals. My real job revolves around teaching people to survive, and this kid seems to have a death wish.
“He’ll see me.” I feign a relaxed posture, leaning back against the wall with my arms crossed. He doesn’t need to know that puts my hand in a perfect position to slip my gun from its holster. “Tell him Luna is here to talk.”
The kid obviously doesn’t like taking orders, his scowl deepening. “Listen, bitch. I’m not telling him anything. You’d better get the fuck out of here before I stop being nice.”
I fight the urge to roll my eyes. Or to kick him in the nuts. I hate it when a boy calls a woman a bitch just because he’s intimidated by her. It’s like getting spit at. Not technically hurtful, but disrespectful as hell.
“Listen here, gumdrop. I’m not leaving until Mike tells me to. So, you’d better let him know that Luna Lamont wants a word.”
“Wait, what?” The guy blinks in confusion, and I wonder if the disorientation comes from my last name or the nickname I assigned him.
I’ve found that when I want to insult a man, I’m better off inventing a random insult than using the more common ones. If I were to call this boy pencil dick, he’d know right away that I was insulting his junk, and he’d feel the need to retaliate. But gumdrop? He’s too busy trying to figure out what that means to decide whether he’s going to get mad about it.
Random candy items always seem to hit the right note.
Tootsie Roll. Bubblegum. Junior Mint.
Used them all.
But almost immediately, I’m bored with watching the ungreased gears slowly try to rotate in his brain. Time to hurry this up. The sooner I’m out of this building, the better.
“I am Luna Lamont. You may have met my brother Leo. Or, of course, my uncle, Mike.”
