The Cleaner (Professionals 9)

And then there were the sounds of her.

The feel of her.

The promise of her.

Cut short because of fucking work.

"What's the job?" I asked, looking around the abandoned office. Quin looked like he'd just rolled out of bed, thrown on some clothes, and made his way in himself.

A new job.

An important job.

"I never considered what a stupid fucking idea it was to put Holden and Bellamy on the same team," he said, sighing.

So not a job.

A clean up of messes made by our team.

I wish I could say it was the first time.

But I did more jobs cleaning up team messes than I did for actual clients. Since Bellamy joined up, well, the amount of times doubled, maybe even tripled.

I mean, the man's job title was The Executioner. When Quin added him to the team, I knew exactly what to expect.

"What did they do?"

"They were supposed to be talking to a new client. Some ultra-rich bastard who runs in the same circles as Bellamy. I sent Holden with him mainly because Holden was driving Nia crazy for stealing her lunch and office supplies and petty shit. I wanted some peace in the office," he added, snorting, shaking his head at himself. "I should have known better."

"What happened?"

"He wanted ongoing help keeping some—as he phrased it—'dirty laundry' under wraps. And I think we all just figured it was fucking the help, or having a gay lover or some shit. Maybe something as stupid as a gambling problem or as big as a love child who might threaten his legitimate heirs' inheritance someday."

"Shit," I said, sighing, having a feeling I wasn't going to like where this was going.

"He's got a computer full of child porn. The second they learned that, well, Holden... did his thing," Quin said.

Holden.

Our Inquisitor.

He had very inventive ways of getting information out of people when he wanted to. Very inventive and painful ways.

"To what end?" I asked.

"They wanted some names of some contacts of him. Holden trained a girl for years before he joined us. She has made it her life's mission to take down these kinds of men. He will hand off that list now that Bellamy has... handled the client. And now we need you to make sure no one knows that Bellamy has handled the client."

"They didn't do it at his house, did they?" I asked, knowing men like him. They had staff. They had security and maids and cameras. I could clean a crime scene. I could make a murder disappear. But I couldn't handle the electronics. I didn't kill people.

"They had the meeting at his cabin. Apparently, the wife can't stand him. And no wonder. So he spends a lot of his free time at his cabin. And by cabin, we mean a five-thousand-square-foot space he has all to himself."

Five-thousand-square-feet.

That was a fuck of a lot of work.

"They didn't leave the cabin, did they?" I asked, wondering if I would need to clean cars and hotel rooms as well.

"No. They're smarter than that. Which means they are alone in a cabin with a body that is going to start stinking. So I need you there as quickly as you can get there."

"Where is it?"

"Upstate New York," Quin said. "I know you will need to drive. It will be just shy of six hours, give or take. "As soon as you are ready to get going, I need you on the road."

"I can leave from here," I told him. "I keep a second of everything in the truck."

"Are you okay to drive?" he asked. "You look like you haven't slept in a couple days."

"I'm fine. You know me," I added.

"Alright. You should be able to get some sleep after this job."

He really did know me.

He understood how it all worked.

"Alright. I will have Bellamy and Holden update you," I told him. I didn't do a lot of communication while on a job. There was too much work to be done, too many small details I needed to be paying attention to.

"That's all I ask," he agreed, giving me a nod.

"Go back home," I suggested. "There's nothing you can do for the next few hours."

"Me? I'm dragging Nia out of bed."

"For what?"

"Well, I am going to say it is to scrub the child porn from the internet. And it is. But it could wait until the morning."

"But you need to fuck with her."

"I never get to win with Nia. She's too fucking smart. Too sure of herself. I gotta play the boss card on occasion when I can."

"Alright. Have fun with that. I'm gonna go."

And with that, I did.

Then, for nearly six hours, I went ahead and let my mind wander back. To her living room, to her playfully testing my boundaries, to her climbing on my lap, to her lips on mine, to her pushed against the wall in the foyer, to my face between her thighs.