Page 121 of Lovers Like Us

I still have a fuckingchaperone.

Donnelly lowers his notebook to erase the pencil, and I notice the flying saucer sketches. That’s not something he woulddraw.

“He’s giving me a tattoo on the bus,” Luna suddenly fills me in. She couldn’t have told Maximoff because he’d be awake right now if she did. I can’t picture him talking her out of a tattoo. He’s mentioned that he’s surprised she didn’t already have one, but he’d be here for moral support. A hand tohold.

I swig my coffee. “You don’t want to wake your brotherup?”

She shrugs. “He lookedtired.”

I nod. “Heis.”

“I’ll show him in themorning.”

I eye the flying saucer drawings. “What are you charging her?” He usually only does tattoos for money or favors. Never free. I’m glad because he could easily waste his talent on freebies forfriends.

“She’s writing me a fic,” Donnelly says and climbs over Luna to go grab his tattoo kit. “She said she could do an original. A shifter story.” He returns and sifts through hisink.

“With hints of extraterrestrial-ness,” Lunaadds.

Donnelly opens a brand new needle. “Where do you wantit?”

She pulls off herThrashersweatshirt, only a bra underneath. Okay, at least she’s not naked. Her brother would flip-the-fuck-out if Donnelly saw hertopless.

“I’m thinking, right here.” She motions to her ribs, the spot beneath her greenbra.

“I’m no longer here,” I tell them. “If you need me, I’m ignoring you both.” I fit earbuds in my ears and drown them out withNirvana.

For the first time, I focus on the lawyer’s email, a zip file attached. The number of documents blinks into view. There are alot.

I skim a few paragraphs.This is the first batch. We’ll send the rest along when wecan.

I meant what I said about his number not mattering to me. But I can’t lie, I thought it’d be high—but I didn’t think it’d bethishigh. More than anything, it means I have a hell of a lot of work todo.

I click into the firstattachment.

Name:Caitlyn Rice.Date is about four years ago, and his previous bodyguard included a note with a location.New YorkCity.

I search on the internet for any info. Two minutes later, I conclude that she’s in a sorority, currently dating the president of Alpha Sigma Phi, and she’s in Lake Tahoe for theholidays.

Social media makes it thateasy.

Not a threat.I chart the findings in an Excel spreadsheet. Tri-Force wants all the intel documented. I’m in charge of searching his one-night stands, and Oscar and Akara have been looking into Maximoff’s old philanthropy employees. Donnelly even found out that Peaches McEntire is married. Since she has no real motive, she’s less of asuspect.

Not a threat. Not a threat. Not a threat.I yawn after an hour of non-threats. Standing, I search the cupboards for the RippedFuel.

“Over here, Redford.” Oscar points to the passenger seat where the jug lies. I sink down and slouch on the seat, iPad under my armpit. I open the jar, kicking my feet on the glovecompartment.

I pop three pills in mymouth.

Oscar glances at me, then the road. “Did you just take three at onetime?”

“I did.” I tune him out with myearbud.

He rips the cordout.

“I’m working,” I say with raisedbrows.

“I’m not even clocking your hours, and I can tell you need sleep.” His eyes flit to me again. “Bro, you’re not driving the next shift. I’m wakingAkara.”