Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 51825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
Chapter Nine
Kit reaches for his weapon, and I grab his arm. “Don’t. This is Homeland Security.”
“You can’t know that, and even if it is, how do we know they didn’t kill Murphy and you’re their cover-up?”
“This is where you can learn from Jay,” I say. “Be paranoid. You’re connected to a drug cartel. Don’t pull on an agent unless I do.”
The door to the SUV to my left opens and I turn to a stout man with broad shoulders, wearing jeans and a Homeland jacket. “Agent Love-Mendez,” he greets. “Forgive me if I don’t know your name preference.”
“Together they tend to scare people, so I think I’ll keep them both.”
“Director Ellis would like to have you join him for a coffee at the diner a few blocks down,” he says, as if I never spoke. “You’ll need to come alone.” He motions for me to get into the car.
“She’s not going alone,” Kit replies. “I’m her personal bodyguard. Director Murphy’s dead. She isn’t going to end up the same way.”
“She’s a legend,” the agent replies. “Unless the stories lie, she can take care of herself for a few blocks.”
“I’m worse than any legend you’ve heard. I’m also walking. What’s the name of the diner?”
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist you ride with us.” The doors to the vehicle in front of us open and two agents step out with their hands on their weapons.
I glance back at the one obviously in charge. “What’s the name of the diner?”
The agent’s jaw sets. “You’re going to need to come with us.”
“Let me be clear. As Kit here pointed out the obvious and you still missed it, I’ll try to go slow. Director Murphy is dead and no one seems to trust the entire body of the FBI. As Murphy’s direct report, I’m not sure why you think I would trust Homeland Security. Only an idiot would get into a vehicle with any of you of their own free will. And if you don’t understand that, you too, are an idiot. Call Director Ellis and tell him that either this gets messy, or I’ll walk to the diner on my own.”
He glares at me, a tic in his jaw, and I add, “Go ahead. Call Daddy. Everyone knows Homeland can’t do anything without asking permission.”
“You really are a bitch.”
I love how people say this to me as if they sit around a campfire and ruminate over my bitch status. It’s like a medal of honor. “A crazy bitch. You’d be less of an idiot if you remember that.”
“That’s the truth,” Kit mumbles under his breath.
I ignore him. “Name of the diner,” I say.
“Red’s. Two blocks down and turn right. You and only you.” He lifts his chin at Kit. “He’s a hard no.”
I lift a hand in front of Kit before he can object. “The irony of that statement is that everyone feels more comfortable with me than Kit, but then badges are deceiving now, aren’t they?” I glance at Kit. “Stay here on your own unless you want to get cuffed and play a kinky game with these guys. They might enjoy that more than you.”
“Lilah,” he bites out.
“This is not going your way, Kit.”
His chest rises and falls with a heavy breath of acceptance. Kit has to be excessively intense and alpha to stand with me and Kane, and it’s very hard to be forced into submission. It’s actually kind of comical. I start walking, aware that I will be followed, and at close proximity, but I have willpower of steel. I will not shoot them just because they’re assholes. I guess Kane is right. I need this badge that tells me I can’t do things like that.
I can only fantasize about it, but I do follow their directions.
Two blocks up and turn right, then I keep walking straight.
And bingo. I have arrived at my destination.
The two agents wearing suits and standing on either side of an upcoming location to my left are a dead giveaway. The windows come into view, and I scan the inside to find the patrons have been cleared. How selfish of the director. Doesn’t he know people need to eat? I step to the door and clearly, my photo has been circulated because neither ask for a badge.
“Director Ellis is waiting on you.”
“And here I was sure I was meeting with Taylor Swift.”
The agent gives me a deadpan stare and opens the door but not before I spy the red dog on it. I like dogs. As incredible as it might seem, they like me, but I’m never home and I can’t be responsible for the living. The dead are another story. I’d like Pocher much better dead. We’re about to find out if I’d like Director Ellis to be just as dead.
Chapter Ten
I enter the diner that is suffocating in red and am literally blinded by the glow of it all—red chairs, red booths, red barstools. Red tablecloths. Red, red, red. It’s like Fifty Shades of Grey vomited a Fifty Shades of Grey red room that serves coffee and diner food. I blink away the damn hypnotic effect and scan for Ellis. I find him sitting in a back booth facing forward, where he can spy on the entire restaurant, which is exactly what I would do. That doesn’t make him smart in my book, but it doesn’t make him stupid either. The smart ones are the dangerous ones but also worthy adversaries.