“U-r-s-o. Los Angeles,” I continued. “Birthdate is May 12, 1993.”
“And what do you want to know?”
“Everything. Everything he owns. Every investment. Every connection. Every sin he’s committed and every debt he owes. Where he puts his dick and where he dips his dirty fingers.”
It wasn’t like a man like that would stay faithful.
Air puffed through the line. “And what do you want with this guy?”
“What do you think?”
Reservations left him on a strained sigh. “Why do I get the feeling I would have fared better giving you the deed to my house?”
“Don’t worry yourself, Dean. It’s off the books.”
Off the bookswas what I did.
“Right,” he grunted.
“Just get me what I need.”
“I’ll get everything I can. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Thank you.”
“As if I have another choice.”
He hung up without saying anything else. I tucked my phone into my pocket and moved to my car, started it, put my hands to the vents and welcomed the heat. I tried to gather my emotions before I headed back to my apartment where I’d lived for the last year.
I rubbed my hands over my face like it could break up the disorder. Give me some clarity.
I didn’t know if I saw the flash of darkness or felt it.
The depravity that curled through the air.
I dropped my hands and peered into the hazy white light where the vapid shadows hovered like an army of wraiths at the edge of the lot.
I swore I saw something.
A shift.
A shape.
I didn’t know, but the only thing I could do was open my car door and climb out into the soft fall of snow.
A feeling took me over.
Possession.
The need to protect.
I saw it.
A silhouette that disappeared around the side of the building.
“Hey!” I shouted, “Hey, stay right the fuck there.”
I took off in that direction.