Page 17 of Lying Lainey

There was no immediate response, so I thought I was being ignored.

“Gilles.”

“Seriously, Gilles?” I said with a snort. “Why don’t you just wave a red flag telling the world it’s a fake name.”

“Then you pick. It doesn’t matter what the fuck you call me. I’m just doing what needs to be done to keep my family safe,” the man snapped.

That got my attention. “Wait, you don’t work for them voluntarily?”

“Fuck no,” he spat. “I don’t think anyone works for them willingly. They just blackmail people all willy-nilly so no one can trace anything back to anyone of importance.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” I agreed. “Well, seeing as we’re in the same boat, do you think you could stop being such a prick?”

“No,” he stated.

“Great, at least we’re on the same page then, Wadsworth,” I quipped.

“Wadsworth? How is that any better than Gilles?” he muttered.

Grinning, I shrugged. “It’s not, but this name will make me smile every time I say it, so that’s a win-win for me.”

His response was an irritated grunt and for him to turn on soft classical music, indicating he was done talking. That was fine with me. I was exhausted, and all I wanted was a bowl of pasta and to watch some trashy reality television show while I ate. There was still a lot of work for me to do, but I needed an hour of mindlessness before diving back into the job. Maybe somewhere in this envelope, it would tell me what my deadline was to pull this off. I was running short on time, and the faster I could be done with this whole fucking mess would be great.

That reminded me to send them a message, asking for a suppressant booster and more scent-altering drugs. I was impressed to see it showed as normal when I typed it, but when I sent it, the words changed into a string of weird symbols. Okay, this syndicate knew their shit, that’s for damn sure. My question was, how would I be able to read it when they responded? I didn’t have to wait long. Two minutes after I sent my request, an answer popped up. When I clicked on it, a decoding app appeared and translated it for me in seconds.

Request acknowledged and accepted. Supplies will be given to your driver, who will deliver them to you tomorrow.

I couldn’t tell if it was creepy that I didn’t need to tell them what drug I used, the dosage, or that it was so readily available to them that they could get it to me that fast. When I ordered it from my supplier, they had at least a week, sometimes two weeks’ lag time for the scent-altering shot I used. The suppressant was more common since many Omegas used it for various reasons, but still, the following morning was impressive.

Wadsworth dropped me off at the steps of my building, and he was off before I even managed to close the door. “He’s going to be delightful to spend time with.”

Finally back in my temporary apartment, I headed right for the closet, kicked off my shoes, stripped out of my clothes, and pulled on sweats. My final act of being done with my so-called work day, I threw my hair up in a messy bun as I headed to the kitchen. As I further investigated the kitchen, I found all the fixings to make homemade alfredo sauce. Doing a little happy dance, I turned on the television and landed on a show about a group of rich Omegas and the dumpster fire they made out of their lives—the perfect background noise as I cooked so the unfamiliar space didn’t feel quite so empty.

Cooking was one of those things that no matter what mood I was in when I started, I was smiling and relaxed by the end. Then again, who wouldn’t be smiling with a giant bowl of fresh fettuccine alfredo and a thick toasted chunk of garlic bread? Just as I was about to settle in on the couch, a knock came at the door. Frowning, I set the bowl on the counter and grabbed my phone. I’d noticed there was a front door camera attached this morning and an app already installed on the phone.

There, standing in front of my door with his suit jacket missing, sleeves rolled up, and hands in his pockets, was Halstead.

eight

Lainey

The gasp that came out of my mouth upon seeing him standing there could probably be heard through the door, it was so loud. Looking around the room, I spotted the two manila envelopes with everything the Syndicate gave me sitting on the side table next to the couch. I darted forward, grabbed them, and ran to my bedroom, lifting the mattress and shoving them under it. Not the most secure place in the world, but it had to do for now.

What the hell could he possibly be doing here? Should I answer or just let him think I’m not home? Wait, fuck, the television. He’s probably hearing it through the door. Shit, shit, shit.

Looking down at myself, I groaned, knowing I looked like a frat boy, but he’s the one who showed up out of nowhere. Letting out a frustrated sigh, I headed to the front door and peeked out the security peephole.

Yup, still there.

Shaking myself out of this funk, I took a slow, deep breath and opened the door. “Mr. Norlund? What are you doing here?” I asked, pleased that I sounded more surprised than irritated.

“I’m sorry to drop by unannounced like this, especially on your first day, but could I have a minute of your time?” he asked.

Stepping to the side, I pulled the door wider to allow him through. “I just made dinner. There’s more than enough if you’d like some?” I offered, shutting the door and grabbing the remote to turn off the television.

“No. Thank you for the offer, though. I don’t want to take up your personal time… that’s going to become a rare occurrence as it is,” Halstead commented as he looked around the room.

“Oh?” I questioned, hopping up on one of the barstools.