“No, but I guessyouare.” Disappointment dripped from my tone.
Her lips tightened into a thin line, and her expression turned guarded. “Today was your freebie, old man. Touch me again without my permission, and I guarantee you it won’t end this way.”
She had distracted me long enough that I didn’t even see her grab her blade. She held it once again, this time closed and not at my throat, but her message was clear. Pocketing the blade, she flashed me a big smile.
“Good day, old man,” she threw over her shoulder as she moved back toward the counter.
How cute.She was dismissing me.Andold man?I’d show her “old man.” Thirty-one was hardly old. She’d bought herself a round of truth or consequence.I smiled, thinking of all the things I’d like to do to her.
“Till we meet again,” I said, leaving the café. I walked outside, and, for once, the sun was shining, making me smile. Marcus was waiting and opened the car door.
“I want to know who she associates with. Follow her.”
“I’m already on it. I should have something for you later this afternoon. And, um…you have something on your neck.” He gestured to the side where Kinsley had held the blade.
“It’s nothing.” I reached up with a handkerchief and blotted at my neck.
Marcus chuckled like he already knew what happened. “Sure thing, Boss.” He closed the door and moved around to the driver’s seat.
“You’re a good man, Marcus.”
Ispent the rest of the day putting Kinsley’s next steps into motion. She might not know it, but she was about to become much more acquainted with me, whether she liked it or not. Marcus sent me a report on her friends, and I laughed.
Dialing Ivan, I filled him in on my first encounter with Kinsley and the information Marcus found. “Send the friend two invites. She’s exactly your type.”
Her best friend was a girl named Sarah Williams. She was blond, liked to frequent nightclubs, and they attended dance classes together. Sarah was a little older than Kinsley and the definition of a party girl. She’d be easy to entice. With a club invite, it was almost guaranteed she’d be there Friday night…hopefully with Kinsley in tow.
I couldn’t get Kinsley off my mind all day, and I somehow found myself outside her house. It was late, and her bedroom window was open. Taking out my phone, I quickly typed a text before I could change my mind.
REAPER:
You never answered my questions. Do you know what that means for you?
Three dots danced as she typed. They danced for several minutes.Don’t know what to say, huh? I grinned.
REAPER:
Ignoring me will only complicate things for you. What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?
Dots danced once more, and then her message came through.
KINSLEY:
Who is this?
She knew damned good and well who it was. She wanted to play games? I’d play along.
REAPER:
Your friendly Reaper.
KINSLEY:
Fuck off.
REAPER:
Childish much?
