Provoke

Prologue

“I was told you might be able to help me,” I said. My hands were shaking so damn much I could barely hold the fucking phone to my ear. Could he hear the fear in my voice? Could he tell I had no fucking clue what I was doing? Yeah, I was shitting myself.

“Yeah? With what?” Suspicion clouded his voice.

“A job. You know exactly what I’m talking about. Don’t fuck with me, dude. You don’t even want to know what I’m capable of.”

He chuckled. “You want this job, then I think I do have a fair idea. How did you get my number?”

“A friend. Never mind who. I know a lot about you though.” I paused and chuckled, trying to sound confident. “More than you want me to know.”

“Is that so?” He paused. “Things like this don’t come free, you know.”

“What do you want?”

“Ten thousand. That will get you in. Whether or not you stay in is up to you.”

I snorted. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Do I sound like I’m fucking joking?” No. He didn’t.

I sighed. “If I had that kind cash lying around, do you really think I’d be crawling to you right now?”

“Not my problem. I think you know the kind of cash you’ll be making shits all over that measly ten fucking grand.”

“Fine. I’ll get the cash.”

“Good. Call me when it’s ready and we’ll arrange a meeting.”

#

He’s late. I shifted in my seat, and every now and then I glanced over at the entrance of the roadhouse. Sighing, I signalled to the waitress for another refill. My phone buzzed. I picked it up and saw it was Leeta. I pressed ignore, the guilt nearly consuming me.

Calm down, or you’ll fuck this up.

“You sure your friend is gonna show?” the waitress asked as she filled my cup. I eyed the thick black liquid that looked more like tar than coffee, my gaze travelling up to her tired, bored expression.

“He’ll be here.”

She smirked at me

The bell above the door rang. I looked up. It’s him. It has to be him. His dark eyes darted around the empty restaurant as he walked toward me. He wore a black leather jacket and faded jeans. He looked ordinary. Completely normal. I laughed to myself. Why the hell was I so shocked? What the fuck had I been expecting, a neon sign above his head?

He slid into the booth and picked up the menu.

“Mace, I presume?” He didn’t look up. God, this guy was smooth. He oozed confidence. Though it was three in the fucking morning, and I was the only person in the place. It was a pretty safe guess that I was me.

“Yep.”

“You got my cash?” He looked up, his dark his eyes meeting mine. Reaching into my jacket, I pulled out the envelope and pushed it across the table to him. He picked it up and used his fingernail to fan through the thick pile of hundreds. My heart pounded as I began to sweat. Now was not the time to be second-guessing myself. It was too late to pussy out.

He nodded and slipped the cash into his pocket.

“Number one, don’t ask me any questions. You’ll be emailed everything you need to know, which isn’t much. A job comes up, you’ll be emailed. No phone calls, no contact beyond this meeting, okay?”

I nodded.

“You look for us again? You try and contact anyone else?” He chuckled and reached for my coffee. “Let’s just say I won’t be able to guarantee your safety.” He stood up and stalked toward the door, my coffee still in his hand.

“Hold up,” I called out. I threw a twenty down on the table and followed him out. “That’s it? How do I know you’re not just bailing with my money?”

He smiled, shaking his head as he lit a cigarette. “Guess you’ll just have to trust me.” He took a sip from my coffee before handing it back to me and getting into his car.