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“I can’t.” Samuel shook his head. “I can’t help but feel like… It’s a bad feeling, B. I’ve got an itch like someone’s watching us, man. I don’t like it.”
Baruti sighed, no doubt dismissing Samuel’s unease. “Zora wouldn’t have agreed to send us here if the lead wasn’t solid. She had everyone check it out. You know that. You got the security brief.”
“And that doesn’t mean shit now that we’re here. We have no idea what we could be walking into.”
What they could be sending Jessica into…
“I get that, but are you certain it’s a real threat? Something neither Kelsey or I have seen? Or is this all in your head?”
Samuel didn’t know what he could say in reply, so he chose to say nothing. Because he couldn’t tell the difference, and Baruti was right. Everything that mattered said they were fine. So why did he feel like they were waiting for the shoe to drop?
Monday. London, UK.
Oliver Taylor watched the two windows closely. His targets were there.
He drew in a deep breath.
Talk about a right fucking disaster. This was going to come down around him, he just knew it. At least he’d come clean to the boss early on. That was more than likely his saving grace, otherwise, he’d have been a loose end tied up a long time ago. The boss didn’t take kindly to people who ran their mouths.
Fucking hell.
He had learned his lesson about owing favors. After this, he’d trade in cold, hard cash only. No more of this debt bullshit.
That’s how this started.
It had sounded easy enough. Answer a bird’s questions, and satisfy the debt once she was happy. But that was the problem. She was never bloody happy, the bitch. Always coming at him with another question and then another. He’d revealed far more than he should have all to settle a debt.
Movement in the window drew his attention. The lights flipped off.
They were on the move. Probably to the meeting spot.
Oliver pulled out his phone and drew the hood of his jacket up to shield his face. This Jessica woman wouldn’t know what he looked like, but he’d seen pictures of her.
He’d known she was a big fish after their first exchange. In a panic, he’d gone to the boss’ man and spilled his guts. He’d wanted to be told to cease all communication. That would ease his conscience and allow him to refuse the debt request. Instead, the boss had given him the impossible task of teasing out what the damn woman knew. It wasn’t much. Or, she was simply better at saying nothing than he was.
Oliver had gotten creative, though. He’d had to tell her something, so he’d dribbled out bits of the truth. Not much, just enough to keep her talking until she, too, had nothing more to say to him.
Which was why he’d pushed for her to come to him. He couldn’t read her. Couldn’t twist the conversation where he wanted so long as they traded messages. No, he had to see her face to face for this one.
He figured he hadn’t told her anything terribly important. It was all the type of knowledge she could get off a well-informed street tough, nothing more. But she knew what questions to ask. Damn did she ever.
The boss needed to be warry of this one.
Four figures exited the hotel.
Oliver tapped his phone screen, checking his socials, while the group grew drew farther away from him. After a moment he began to follow.
Damn it.
He had hoped to end this tonight, but if she was going to break their agreement and show up with her back-up, they would have a problem. Namely, he couldn’t take four on one odds. Especially considering the two big, Black bruisers following her. Fucking hell.
Even if she showed up alone now, he knew he had to be careful. These other three could easily swoop in and make a mess of him.
An idea occurred to Oliver, and a plan began to form.
Yeah, he could do this. The boss might even be impressed.
Chapter Thirteen