Page 28

The woman who should be running for the hills tracked me down. Her skills in that department aren’t surprising. I imagine she comes highly recommended as an agent.
What I did to her last night should be reason enough for her to keep her distance, or at least bring backup if she has intentions of arresting me.
I won’t go down without a fight. I’m more likely to die in prison than out in the free world working. I’d never go there willingly.
The cut on my neck itches when she lowers her eyes to it.
My cock swells at the sight of bruises I left on hers.
My fingers itch to trace the blues and purples, to make them bigger, to squeeze it again.
I stare at her, my eyes locked on hers.
She doesn’t flinch, doesn’t back away, doesn’t apologize, or admit she’d made a mistake by getting back in my line of fire.
“Can I get you something, sweetheart?”
Neither of us turn our attention to the waitress as she speaks.
Lauren doesn’t rush to place an order. She takes her time, drawing unnecessary attention to the two of us. It’s smart, tactical.
“Black coffee and two scrambled eggs.”
“Toast or hash browns?”
Lauren slowly lifts her eyes, lip quivering slightly. “I’m not allowed to have carbs.”
Her eyes dart in my direction, terror making them shiny as she slowly lifts her hand to her throat.
I nearly smile at her, only managing to keep my lips flat as the waitress gasps.
“It’ll… umm… be just a few minutes,” the waitress stammers before darting away.
No other words are spoken. Lauren doesn’t say thank you when the waitress carries over a cup of coffee.
“Your eggs… they’ll be here any minute,” the waitress assures her.
Lauren nods, her eyes glassy as she once again makes eye contact with the waitress.
She doesn’t wince when she takes a gulp of coffee despite the steam coming from the cup, but when she places it back on the table, I notice smudges on it.
Without warning, I reach out and flip Lauren’s hand over.
“Fucking bitch,” I growl as low as I can manage at seeing the wordsHELP MEscrawled on her palm in lipstick.
Lauren chuckles, and I realize when I thought she was drawing the woman’s attention to the marks I left on her skin, she was actually flashing the plea on her palm.
“My eggs will be here any minute,” she mocks, her voice low and taunting, her face still that of a terrified woman.
God, she’s fucking good.
I stand, pulling money from my pocket. I drop it to the table and make my way to the front door of the diner.
The waitress looks like she wants to speak out, but I know she won’t. There’s nothing she can do to stop me.
The sound of distant police sirens fills the air, confirming that Lauren’s ploy worked and the police are on their way to investigate.
The second I open the driver’s side door, the passenger side opens as well.