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“That eager to get back to your secrets, huh?” He laughed again, but it wasn’t as full-bellied as the last. “I just thought I’d tell you that your little girlfriend is on TV tonight, in case you need something for your wank bank.”
“What the fuck are you talking about, Dec?”
“Sen Chastity has a solo performance tonight.” His blue eyes twinkled with much more excitement than mine ever did at hearing that name, and that wasn’t because mine were golden brown. “Your gorgeous little goth girl is titling her revival as Risen from the Dead.”
“She isn’t my fucking girl. Never was.”
My fists clenched.
“In her interview last week, she said it was nice to be known as Remington’s girl for a little while.”
Those words drilled into my head, reminding me of my actual girl. . .one, I’d claimed myself and not had forced on me by PR companies. The same fucking girl who was in a property two miles away, and I hadn’t even sniffed her out.
The screen suddenly became a magnet to the pinging in my brain. And I couldn’t keep my eyes from springing back to it every other second.
“One of you is lying.”
“Her.” The blunt word was me ending that conversation.
“So, you won’t mind me perving on her then?”
“I couldn’t give a fuck.”
“Spoken like a bitter ex.”
I rolled my eyes at how far from the truth that was.
“Well, I guess I’ll leave you to your secret shit then.”
“Appreciated.” I saluted him as he made his way to the door.
He stalled, and my body froze, my shaking finger ready to click the mouse the second he left. My other hand twisted, and my joints clicked, releasing some tension in my body before it overpowered me and put Dec on his back for delaying this further.
With our backs to each other, he said, “Remi, if that’s something that’s gonna stress Ollie out more than he already is, maybe let the dust settle after your last antics first.”
“Noted,” I replied and ignored as he closed the door.
Ollie would get over this. He should be expecting something else, after all. As they say, unfortunate events come in threes.
Was a scumbag’s death unfortunate?
I clicked her name, and a file popped up.
Red hair. Heterochromia. Slender. Busty. Picked up from San Fran Gig—Remington Cole. Chip number – 0046532.
It was Cat. Definitely fucking Cat.
A thought popped into my head. What if she was here? What if she was the girl in the next room?
My head spun straight towards the wall between me and the stranger.
I’d know, surely, I’d fucking know.
Something told me if Ollie were home, he’d be in the next room. But even with my hearing aid on max, I heard nothing in there now.
That didn’t mean he wasn’t there. He was always quiet when handling victims. He gave no hint that he was a supervisor at the local distribution centers, watching over calmly as girls and boys got sold.
Sacrifice the one to save the many.
