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“Hey, I’m talking to you.”
Fat, beefy fingers wrap around my upper arm and stop me cold.
So much for minding my own business. The rubber heels on my boots ground into the black carpet and my hand snaps to his. I pry his fingers from my bicep and my lips curl into a snarl. “Take your hands off me!” I work to pry his fingers from my arm. But it’s not that easy when you’re five foot three and can bench press a chest full of pillows at best.
But that doesn’t stop me from trying.
I dig my fingers around a few of his and put half my weight into pulling back. The overhead chandeliers are more for elegance than throwing the place in massive amounts of lights. Shadows cut across his face but I still get the full force of ill intent in his eyes. And the nasty scars down the left side of his face.
Unholy amounts of stink roll off him. It’s not like all the runners smell like death, but this one takes his job to the extreme. I want to ask if he sleeps with the corpses he creates, but think better of mouthing off and just try to get to Harlon.
Beady black eyes narrow on me and dirty fingers twine around my hair when I finally get my arm free.
“You like to play rough.” He tugs and I’m dragged backward several steps.
Pain shoots through the roots of my hair, but I grit through the pain. Tobacco-stained teeth peek out between chapped lips when the killer smiles down at me like I’m some dish to lick off a plate. “I like you. I’ve seen you around.”
Bile rises and I swear to the gods watching I puke in my mouth.
“Good for you.” I rear back and drive an elbow into his ribs, freeing my hair. “You have eyes. For your line of work that’s a plus. Congratulations.” When I usually come down to this level all the runners are out doing their killer thing. It seems my luck has run out tonight.
His killer friends snicker, making the dude’s face turn a nasty pissed off shade of red.
“So it’s comedy hour?” The animalistic growl he emits sends my heart into freak out mode.
Shit. Shit. Shit.The last thing I need is a scene.
I hold my hand up and turn docile when he grabs at it and pulls me against his chest.
“Sorry, ugh, no. Harlon needs me. I’m not thinking straight. Catch up later?” My smile turns saccharine and I move my feet in the opposite direction while he chews on his boss’s name. Meek and pliant is not part of my character, but I’ve learned a few tricks in order to survive in this world.
Never refuse a client.
The third rule of Society’s establishment was lashed into me more than once. It’s hard to forget something when it is taught through pain. It didn’t stick the first time. I was taught a lesson and thrown into a cell to think about my actions.
The next time another client was presented to me I bet you can guess how I handled that situation. I came to love solitude. No matter how much Euphoria they gave me I kept my virginity.
My heart steadily increases until it’s thumping wildly in my chest by the time I reach the back section of the third floor. The runner’s laughter clings to my hearing as I step into the middle room.
I don’t have time to take a deep breath before a stack of papers ten inches thick is shoved into my arms.
“I almost came looking for you. Polaris needs this for processing and client delivery quickly, if you don’t mind.”
“Yes.” I feel myself nodding but all I can think about is having to walk back through the pit of cobras out there.
Ugh.
A man twice my age with brown eyes, neatly combed hair and wearing a four thousand dollar suit takes in my flushed face, heaving chest and I guess I look startled because my second boss is on his feet and his hands on my shoulders in seconds.
Harlon Constantine isn't a man who waits for trouble to find him, I’ve come to learn. He seeks it out and cuts it off at the head before it can fester into a bigger problem. I’m not here to make enemies so I keep my mouth shut.
“You alright, Bailey?”
Fuck me. The worry in his voice means he’s going to plague me with big brother questions. Sometimes I hate the fact that the people I work for know where I came from.
“Yeah. The runners are a little stir crazy is all. Maybe these contracts that will give them something stabby to do.”
His rich laughter is gentle to the ears. Harlon shakes his head and turns back to the table he was leaning over when I came in.
