Dirty Dealers

“I don’t need much room.”

“I want you to lock these bolts after I leave and don’t go out again.”

Her slim brows pull together, and she purses her lips. “You’re worried I’ll go out again?”

“Just… Don’t.” I say, and she shrugs. I’m not finished. I gather her in my arms. “And don’t leave Monagasco without telling me.” Her chin drops, but out of habit, I duck my head to catch her eyes. “Promise me, Sass. I need to know you’ll be here tomorrow.”

She blinks rapidly, not returning my gaze. The sadness is back. My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I know it’s either Rowan or Freddie. I’ve got to return to the palace. “Please,” I urge, tightening my hold around her body. “Say you’ll talk to me before you do anything.”

She slides her hands up to touch my cheeks, and when she speaks, her voice is soft. “Promise me you’ll always remember our night on the beach… or me in your bed that first morning. Or tonight in the alley… Remember me loving you.”

My chest aches and my phone buzzes again. “Say you’ll be here tomorrow.”

She rises on her tiptoes to kiss me. I kiss her back, pushing her lips apart and claiming her mouth. My hands move into her hair, and I hold her to me, attempting to transfer all the strength of my feelings into her heart.

Another buzz, and I have to go. “Lock the door,” I say, firmer this time. “Be here in the morning when I come back.”

She nods touching my hand, sliding her fingers through mine.

It’s not complete relief, but I’ll take what I can get for now. I kiss her hand and step through the door, waiting on the other side as I hear the bolt click into place, the chain slide across its metal track.

Tomorrow I’ll have more time. I’ll make her tell me everything, an

d we’ll see what debts can’t be repaid.

Failure

Kass

I rest my head against the door listening to the sound of Logan’s footsteps growing quieter as he descends the stairs.

Oh, God… Tears fill my eyes. It’s very possible I’ll never see him again. Still, I have to follow through. I have to do what I can to stop the chain of events my coming here set in motion.

My body is sore in the most wonderful way as I peel off my clothes to shower. At the same time, my heart is broken. “Oh, Logan,” I whisper, wishing with every ounce of strength I possess I could change my life, go back in time and make different choices.

But I can’t.

I have to focus on making this right.

Going to my dresser, I feel inside for the soft twill of my black pants. My system for keeping types of clothes in separate drawers helps me find what I need for tonight—long black pants; next drawer down, long black sweater; two drawers up, heavy canvass belt. I step into my black boots and pull a stocking cap over my pale hair. A small dagger is in its custom leather holster in the top drawer.

Lifting it, I slide the steel weapon from its sheath. It’s a double-edged, pointed knife that fits in the palm of my hand exactly the way I was holding my keys this afternoon.

Blix calls it a push dagger, and ironically, he gave it to me when I first started working with him five years ago. He had thought I was too petite. He said I was too beautiful, and he worried one of the guys might try to rape me.

I was able to see the strange weapon when he gave it to me. I remember the night he showed me how to use it. My eyesight had only just begun to fail, and it was easy to hide from him. Now my fingers touch the braided leather handle, and I see it in my memory. From tip to tip it’s only two inches long, and carved into the blade are the words “Best Pal.”

“Keep it in your belt when you go out with them,” he’d said, showing me how to clip the sheath inside my waistband so only the flat handle extended above my pants. “If one of them tries anything, wait until he’s on you. Then jam it straight into his neck, front or back, and he’ll go down.”

At the time, the idea had nauseated me. Now I savor the thought of using this little tool. Without hesitation, I clip the holster inside the front of my pants and start for the door. I order an Uber car, so I don’t have to bother with carrying money, and I give the address of a drugstore near the edge of the city.

Blix is hiding out at an abandoned villa. I can’t see it, but from what I understand the exterior looks like a dilapidated old ruin with ivy and vines covering the turrets, and arched window frames extending over black holes.

The driver lets me out and I wait until I hear he’s gone. I had listened closely on the plane as Blix gave Taz and Dev directions on how to find him. He didn’t care that I was listening. He still thinks I can’t get around on my own now that I’m blind. He’s so stupid. I know to walk three blocks east and then five blocks south and I’ll be there.

While I changed at my apartment, I heard the downpour release outside, and I hoped Logan made it home before it started. Logan… The memory of his strong arms, his embrace, his kiss, filters such sadness through my chest.

I love him.