Say the Word(107)

“You’re impossible,” I complained, rolling my eyes. “Can you meet me tonight? I have something to ask you. And, before you get yourself all worked up, you should know — it’s for the story I’m working on. The one about the missing girls.”

“Where?” he asked, his tone suddenly serious.

“A coffee shop in the East Village. I’ll text you the address.”

“I’ll be there. What time?”

I glanced at my watch. “Seven?”

“See you then.”

I clicked off.





***


“I must say, you’re looking remarkably healthy for someone with the flu.” Bash stared at me with raised brows as I approached him. He was standing on the sidewalk, just below the café awning.

“The wonders of modern medicine,” I drawled, coming to a stop by his side. “Thanks for coming.”

He grinned at me. “Your wish, my command.” I rolled my eyes as he pulled open the glass door and ushered me inside. “After you.”

I made my way to the counter and ordered a chai tea. I looked around for the tattooed, eyeliner-wearing barista who’d given me Miri’s note, but she didn’t appear to be working today. Before I could pay, Bash placed his own order for a cappuccino and a croissant, handed a sleek black AMEX credit card to the cashier, and grinned down at me infuriatingly.

“What are you doing?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest. “This isn’t a date. You’re not supposed to pay.”

He laughed at me and shook his head, the bastard.

I turned to the cashier. “Can you refund that chai? I have cash.”

Bash looked from me to the cashier, who was watching us with wide eyes. “Don’t listen to her,” he whispered conspiratorially, nodding his head in my direction as he retrieved his credit card from her outstretched palm. “Her money’s counterfeit.”

“Wha— Are you serious right now—Bash!” I spluttered as he led me away with one hand at the small of my back.

“Just sit, Freckles.” He steered me toward a table and pulled out my chair. “I’ll get our drinks.”

“I can get my own—”

He cast a dismissive frown in my direction, before heading back to the counter to accept our drinks from the barista. I sat, tongue-tied, watching him and feeling spectacularly off balance as I took in the sight of his broad shoulders and well-toned arm muscles from behind. He was too gorgeous for his own good — mine weren’t the only set of female eyes on him at the moment – but he didn’t seem to notice the attention his looks drew. He tossed a quick smile over his shoulder at me when he reached the counter, and I heard two appreciative girls at a nearby table sigh in unison. Somehow, it was a comfort to know I wasn’t the only one left dumbstruck in his presence.

Balancing two mugs and the small plate holding his croissant, Bash made his way back to our table and sat down across from me.

“Thanks,” I murmured, accepting my tea mug.

“Anytime,” he returned, smiling as he tore off a chunk of his croissant and popped it in his mouth. He chased the bite with a sip of cappuccino, swallowed, and adopted a solemn expression. “So, spell it out for me.”

I took a deep inhale. “You know I’ve been investigating that old brewery down in Red Hook.”

He nodded.

“Well, there’s a bit more to the story,” I admitted.

“I figured as much.” A wry smile twisted his lips.

“It started with Vera.” My voice cracked when I said her name, but I forced myself to go on. For the next hour, I spoke without interruption, laying out the whole sordid tale as my heart pounded in my chest. The flea market, Roza, the tenements in Two Bridges, Miri, the significance of this very cafe, the note, Santos, Red Hook, the brewery, and, finally, Labyrinth. By the time I reached that portion of my tale, my tea was long gone and all that remained of Bash’s croissant was a small smattering of crumbs on the white ceramic plate. As I spoke, his eyebrows lifted higher and higher, the frown lines around his mouth becoming more prominent with each passing moment. He was quiet for a long time when I finally finished speaking.

“Let me see if I have this right,” Bash muttered, his wide eyes intent on my face. “You want me to help you get inside a highly-secure, tightly-guarded, entirely dangerous secret society, and then gather incriminating intel on some of the most powerful people in this country.”

I gave a hesitant nod.

“Are you out of your f*cking mind?” he bellowed, causing several people at surrounding tables to look in our direction warily.

“Bash!” I protested quietly. “Calm down.”

“Calm down? Calm down?” He snorted. “Yeah, I’m feeling extremely calm after learning you’re on some halfcocked mission to get yourself killed. These people are dangerous, Lux. You know that better than anyone. I can’t f*cking believe you’ve been going after them alone.”

“Well, if you come with me, I won’t be alone anymore,” I pointed out. “I need your help, Bash. I need to see what’s going on inside that club.”

“And you don’t think, if these people are as powerful as you say, that they’ll notice a blonde sleuthing wannabe traipsing through their back rooms and looking through their computer files?” He laughed. “That’s optimistic.”