Perversion (Perversion Trilogy #1)(27)

Sandy shakes his head. “No, I think one of the staff members tipped them off to the one dark spot in the whole place.”

“They catch them?”

Sandy shakes his head again. “No, the one with light brown hair went one way, and the dark-haired girl ran the other. No clue who they are, either. All we know is that they’ve been there before, and it looks like they’ve been running scams there for a while. No known affiliations. No names. Nada.”

The girl from last night.

She met up with another girl in the alley. When I saw her, she had been running. Hiding.

I’ll give the money back

“Let me know if you find out anything else. I’ll talk to the Chief about it tonight and tell him we’ve got it handled. And if you find the girls, bring them to me first before anything happens. You understand?”

“Roger that.”

I walk through the house and pull open the slider, stepping out into the backyard. I head toward my room which is separate from the house. An old shed conversion. It gives me the privacy I need and a break from the constant noise and Sandy’s always running mouth. I unlock the door and step into my room, shutting it behind me.

“Does this mean we get to pick colors?” Sandy calls out from the other side of the door. I didn’t even notice he’d followed me out. “For the record, this pristine complexion of mine does not look good in orange or burgundy. As the temporary leader of our gang until Belly’s better, I expect you to choose something that makes my eyes pop. Oceanside is the Sherwin Williams color of the year. I think that might work. I’ll pick up a swatch tomorrow, and we can go over options. We’ll have a little blow, a little vote. Sound good?”

I hear the sliders of the house open and close, and thankfully, I’m finally alone.

I groan. I have more things to worry about than Sandy finally realizing that our organization is, in fact, a gang. A lot more. Like the fact that the task force is up our ass, Belly’s declining health, and that earnings have been lower than they have since the day I arrived in Lacking. The ceasefire has been bad for business.

And then there’s the girl. If she is caught, it would be up to me to decide what’s done with her. Hopefully, she’s not stupid enough to be affiliated with Los Muertos or the Immortals AND running cons at the casino.

That won’t end well for her.

I rub my temples. I didn’t ask for this leadership shit. I was brought in for something else entirely, and it wasn’t my ability to lead.

It was my ability to not feel.

My lack of respect for human life.

My ability to kill without hesitation.

But for some reason, Belly chose me, and I’m not about to let him down.

There’s a familiar scratch at the window. I sigh and cross the room. When I open it, a ball of tiger-striped fur jumps into my arms, dropping what appears to be a mangled mouse onto the carpet. I pat his head, and he hisses out his usual greeting before curling up against me and purring softly. His tail is a scabby, mangled mess. The truce obviously hasn’t deterred him from getting into his own fights.

“Thanks for the fucking gift, asshole,” I mutter, tossing the mouse by the tail out into the yard.

The cat leaps from my arms back out the window.

I pick up my phone, realizing that the kind of company I want tonight isn’t in the form of Mr. Fuzzy, who after five years, is indifferent to me at best. I need a distraction in the form of bouncing tits and over the top moans.

I’m typing out a text to one of my go-to girls when the locket falls from my pocket onto the carpet. I pick it up and rub my thumb over the heart-shape. It’s cheap and the clasp is rusted shit. I scrape at it with my thumbnail, but before I can open it, there’s another scratch at the window.

I think it’s Fuzzy again, unable to make up his mind whether he wants in or out. But the window slides open on its own, and unless he’s grown thumbs in the past twenty seconds, it’s not the fucking cat.

I pull draw my weapon and press my back to the wall.

I watch from the corner of my eye as a small dirty, yellow sneaker appears, feeling for the dresser below. Once it gains footing, the other follows, slipping on a stack of magazines.

A blur of tanned skin and tangled brown hair crashes to the floor.

I’m over her in a flash, my knees caging her in, my gun aimed at her head.

Her gaze travels down my weapon, to my arms, then finally my face. “Oh, shit,” she says, but she’s smiling like she’s just dropped an earring, not like she’s found herself on the wrong end of a gun.

Which she has.

It’s her. The girl from the alley.

“Perfect timing,” I tell her.

We stare at each other for a few moments in deafening silence. The feeling is there again. The current between us. But it doesn’t change that the bitch just broke into my room. I’m debating what to tie her up with when she darts her tongue out, licking along the barrel of my gun.

“You gonna shoot me with that thing,” she asks. “Or just tease me with it?”





Eleven





“Oh, I’m not teasing,” he replies. “Talk, or I’ll shoot.”

He gives me no indication that he’s lying as he massages the trigger with his index finger.

“Listen, I’m just here to get my locket back. That’s all,” I say, swallowing hard. I thought for sure he was still out front in the driveway working on the van. That’s where he was when I first spotted him. I had to move slow through the backyard to be as quiet as possible.