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My fellow Knight sighs and sits. I take a sip of my drink, my gaze wandering back to the waiting Scarlett.
“These things always are,” he says, crossing his legs. He’s quiet for a long time. “The last sweep of the shipping offices got nothing. At all.”
“I’m not surprised.” I take another swallow of the amber liquid and push my hand through my hair as my gaze returns to Scarlett. “Fuckers like Hanlon and his brother don’t keep the real client lists out in the open.”
She grows more and more uncomfortable sitting there. She hides it well, but it sparks and fizzes at her edges, and I want to see her resolve stretch, get a feel of her grit. There’s a difference between being face-to-face with someone and making that person wait for contact. When they wait, I can see the parts they hide. The little tells. They can never hide that shit from me.
Scarlett’s stillness is a tell. She closes off, almost like she’s blockading herself from what’s to come.
“West—”
“I don’t need a fucking babysitter or a reminder of the job. This is my forte. Undercover, playing a role. I can grift anything.”
“This isn’t a small grift.”
And I laugh. “You’re fucking wrong, Smith. They’re all, at their heart, small grifts.”
I know what’s expected of me with this job. Go in, create the right chaos, get the list, and kill Hanlon.
Okay, the last one isn’t the job. It’s my reward and no one’s taking it from me. The job isn’t a small one, and for the past few months, I’ve been setting up, paving the way, and now I’ve made my presence known with the depraved Orchid Lane.
The name’s deliberate.
The foyer is elegant, almost spa-like, and then the bar’s the gateway to the layers beneath.
It’s perfect for who I currently am, James Malone. Or JM.
“UR Fantasies provides high-end, custom porn for the rich gentleman,” I say. “And they don’t like their competitors muscling the fuck in.”
The sarcasm from my words hangs heavy.
“Fucking UR Fantasies.” Smith grimaces and downs his drink, a dark expression on his face, and I know he’s thinking of his daughter, what happened to her—well, almost happened. “According to Jones, the full client list is important to us.”
“Of course it is. This list isn’t only going to be sex traffickers.” Hanlon Shipping will cover anything and everything with their legit shipments. Drugs and guns and other contraband. Tracking down that list will ultimately help the Obsidian Knights find and destroy other groups that buy, sell, and abuse innocent young women. “People use smaller operations like Hanlon Shipping because the money they make’s easily hidden since the Hanlon family’s already loaded.”
Smith cuts his eyes at me. “Really, Malone? You’re fucking giving me a lesson in the lay of the land?”
“Loaded types always have an affinity for paranoia.” I lift an eyebrow at him. “Illegal operations and working with dangerous clients who want to remain anonymous add layers to that paranoia.”
“So people like the Hanlons hide information to protect themselves—information like their client list.” He studies the image of Scarlett on the screen. She’s not touching the drink that was sent to her by management—Bernadette’s very good at her job. “You’re not telling me anything new, West. I know how these things work.”
“Then you know that because of their size and financial standing, Hanlon’s not going to screw a single client over. He knows their clients trust them and he’d never gamble that trust.” I switch the screen so it’s images of all the bar’s angles. Scarlett’s in the top right-hand corner. “Hanlon’s not going to sell anyone out, and the clients aren’t going to shoot them dead in their sleep.”
“Don’t bite the hand…” He frowns. “I fucking know this.”
Smith is angry. I get it. Angry at The Collectors, at fucking Orion who’s now with his daughter. But I don’t care.
“So I’ve been carefully creating an unknown threat. Dale Hanlon has a fucking past, his brother, too,” I say. “Dirty secrets always follow the rich and corrupt. The trick is to make it menacing and ambiguous and let their imaginations take over.”
“And if,” Smith says, “they point a finger at a client?”
“They won’t. Clients like theirs don’t make unclear threats.”
“You play fast and loose.”
“I know,” I say. It’s true and it isn’t. “But it’s got them reaching out for protection from the newest player on the scene.”
“You?”
