Page 38 of The Job

“Yeah, it does.” Rage chuckles. He picks up his beer and just before he takes a sip, he says quietly, “Heads up.”

My eyes follow our target as he weaves his way through the crowd and to the other end of the bar, which is curious because why wouldn’t he come to the part of the bar that is closest to where he is sitting?

A shiver of apprehension goes down my spine.

I watch as he calls the bartender over and orders a drink, as soon as it’s put down in front of him, he picks it up, his eyes meeting mine, as he winks.

“Shit.”

Before I can do anything, all hell breaks loose as a bar fight seems to start from nowhere.

“He made us. We need to follow him.” I tell Rage quickly as we both get up.

We move through the fighting masses, ducking punches and even a flying barstool. Jensen would have fucking loved this. I stop a hit as it comes in my direction and strike back, sending the guy flying and bringing a grin to my face.

I love a good fight.

We fight our way through the bar, and I am just getting to the edge of the fight when my eyes land on the target again. He is standing by the exit and as soon as my eyes meet his, he smirks and waves, heading out of the door.

I rush after him, Rage hot on my heels. We really need to take the fucker in. When we finally get outside, I realize that we are too late, and I watch as he drives off.

Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I hit dial. “He knew we were watching him.”

“Fuck,” Alaric curses, “I’m coming to get you now; I’ll be there in two minutes, max.”

He hangs up, and I turn to Rage, “Well, that was a clusterfuck.”

“At least we got a fight out of it,” he grins.