Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 51832 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51832 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
I assume we will be watched and tormented by said watching for some time and I plan to make it work by meeting as many people as we can, and digging for information. I motion to an important-looking man—forty-something, sandy brown hair, an expensive watch, and suit—with a crowd around him that is clearly trying to please him and gain his good graces. “Target number one,” I say, and start walking.
Luke falls into step with me and it’s right when we step into the circle that I spy Savage out by the pool, talking with a familiar face. He’s standing with Phillips’s wife, holding a tray, while she smiles up at him, flirting up a storm with an ex-assassin who is also a happily married man. She will get nowhere with this exchange but we might just get everywhere.
I exchange a look with Luke, who smirks his approval for Savage’s fast action. We’re ready and waiting for confrontation. Bring it. Bring it now. But it’s not now. It’s an hour later, and way too much schmoozing when a tall, bulky man in a suit, steps in front of us.
“Mr. Phillips would like to see you both.”
My heart begins a drumroll in my chest, followed by what feels like a tap dance, but on the outside, I’m cool and calm. “Nothing like special attention from the Mr. Phillips,” I say smoothly.
Luke says nothing, but his hand settles possessively on my lower back and I swear I can feel his heartbeat in his palm. Or maybe that is still the tap dance of my own heart, working its way through my body, and into his. Whatever the case, it’s showtime. My phone is in my purse at my hip, while my weapon rests on my thigh. I’m equipped and ready to meet Michael Phillips, who may or may not, be a friend. He also might be the king. Translation: our enemy.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Luke
We end up on an elevator with the big buffoon standing in front of us. I reach into my pocket and check my phone, which is presently downloading his data. That means Blake is already scouring it for information. I’m loving this shit while it works for us, but this is dangerous territory that could backfire if reversed one day. We end up on the third floor, when our guide boy steps into the hallway, with his shoulders all pulled back like a slingshot. He has no idea how much it weakens him, from front to back.
But hey. Better for me if I have to pick a spot to make him hurt.
Or die.
Whatever I need to do, Ana is walking out of here as beautiful and untouched by anyone but me, as she came in here.
Slingshot leads us to the left, toward a double red doorway, which is guarded by Adam. How he made that happen, I don’t know, but my respect for him just continues to climb higher and higher. As for the doors, someone is superstitious, and I like those people as targets. They find a false sense of comfort in all the wrong things, like their money. I already know Phillips uses money as power, which isn’t stupid. Money is power. Just not always the right kind to save your life. Slingshot knocks on the door and it opens.
He steps back and motions us forward. I resist the urge to eye Adam, and to capture Ana’s hand that she might need to reach for her weapon. Side-by-side we step under the massive archway that is just one of the doors. We’re now looking into an office with views of the pool with the mountains as a backdrop. Sitting at the desk, that is center stage is Phillips, and he’s not alone. There’s a bodyguard to his right, standing tall and punching us with a stony headlight stare.
Phillips who is fifty-five, but looks younger, is fit, with salt and pepper, thick hair, and a piercing gaze. He surprises me by standing to greet us, rounding the desk to meet us on this side. Ana and I focus our attention on him, but I have one eye on the guard and an awareness of Slingshot at my back. But Adam is at his. Adam is our ace in the deck. But then so is Savage. Two aces are better than one.
“Welcome,” Phillips greets, offering me his hand, not a blink of sadness, pain, or remorse present over his son’s death.
I accept his hand and he presents a strong grip, but not too strong. It’s practiced. The kind of shake that says I’m your equal but not above you. I don’t believe that to be what he feels, but I respect his ability to deliver the message. “Good to meet you, Luke.” He turns his attention to Ana. “And the lovely Ana, who manages to be both as beautiful as she is a badass. I’ve heard much about your father.”