Orla’s reaction was immediate, and she reached for his wrist. It was a way to achieve her goal. “I’m going with you.”
Evans chuckled and snatched his hand back. “I have no intention of going. I’m in no mood to celebrate how this drug will impact so many people.”
“You have to go. Do it for me, for Chicago. Unless you have other information, another way to point me in their direction, it may be my only chance.”
Her heart thumping hard, it took everything in her not to jump on him and shake out an answer.
“It’s too dangerous. Tell the cops what I just told you and let them deal with it.”
“What proof do I have? You know that for anybody to act, I need more than what an MC president’s word. Damn, time is running out. You said it yourself, they’re probably launching this curse tomorrow. I need to at least try to contain it the best I can. Damn it, Evans. I’m begging here.”
The blonde biker angled his head. “You’re not searching for a story. You’re really trying to stop this. I admire your guts, but I’m no longer a free agent. If I step into something I can’t deal with, much more than myself is at risk.”
“I’m only asking you to get me through the doors and point me to the people I’m looking for. That’s it. Minimal risk for you. Almost none. As soon as I’m in, feel free to leave. I don’t need a shield, I need a way in, and you’re it.”
“You don’t know what’s behind that mirror, Alice. You’re asking me to put you in danger and do nothing about it? Damn, woman. You have a death wish. It’d be easier if you asked me to put a bullet in your head.”
“Come on, please. I’m begging here, and I never beg.”
He didn’t immediately answer as the waitress came with the bill. Evans paid for both of them, tossed the tip on the table, and grabbed his leather coat, heading for the door.
Orla followed, trying to come up with an argument that would convince him. She wanted it badly, but she wouldn’t offer anything she wasn’t willing to give. However, she guessed that with Damon Evans, money and sex came way too easy to be used as a bargaining chip.
Once beside his bike, Evans rolled his shoulders and looked around for a while, keeping Orla on her toes. “You know what? There must be a small remnant of that knight in shining armor in me. I’ll do it, but you’re in my debt until I decide otherwise.”
Orla wanted to jump for joy, but she crossed her arms at his reference to a debt. “I’m not going to do anything illegal for you, Evans. Ever. Nor will I sabotage my career on one of your whims.”
“Interesting you didn’t mention your reputation. But that’s fine with me. A woman like you is always useful to have nearby. I’ll call you as soon as I have all the details for tonight settled. Don’t worry about your outfit, I’ll send something. And I’ll pick you up. Keep your phone close.”
And before she could utter a single word or step away, one of his arms circled her waist, bringing her closer for a kiss.
Despite his grin, the embrace was inescapable and his lips possessive, edging on hard. The man was a talented kisser, no doubt about it, and she was about to let herself go a little when something popped in her mind—he didn’t taste or feel like the vigilante. Her brain overtook her body just as he released her. With a wink, he revved the throttle and disappeared in the blink of an eye.
How had she successfully placed a couple of pieces in the giant puzzle, yet the next minute, more pieces appeared?
Now, with a thundering heart at the idea she was getting closer to her goal, she headed home and hoped Evans was a man of his word. A lot rode on this flimsy trust between them.
Chapter Eight
Sam wasglad the tracker he’d slid into Orla’s messenger bag had worked perfectly. It wasn’t a foolproof method, but it allowed him to return to base and keep an eye on her from afar. The distance was needed, especially with what had happened the night before.
Even though he’d thought long and hard about the reasons he’d fucked her like an animal in the underground parking area, Sam still couldn’t find a logical reason for his actions, apart from pure lust. He shook his head as he looked at the dot blinking on the screen as the woman made her way back to her apartment.
He switched the cameras to a different view. Orla had successfully met with Damon Evans, one of the possible people who had more information on Phantom’s impending release.
Via the wide-angle camera of a nearby building, he had seen Evans enter the restaurant, followed by Orla a few minutes after. Safe neighborhood, wise choice. Evans wouldn’t be recognized in that part of town.
Apart from a flash of pale blonde hair through the main window, Sam couldn’t see Orla. They stayed a long time, and Sam wondered what they were discussing. Had the biker given her anything useful? Orla was a dedicated and passionate woman, and he wouldn’t be surprised if she took risks in her line of work. His suspicions were confirmed when he saw Evans kiss Orla. Her back was to the camera, but it was clear she didn’t fight it. However, there was definite surprise along with a frown on her face as the man left. She wasn’t happy with something he’d done or said. Or what was to come, maybe? Such a strange woman, the only time he’d been able to see what lay underneath her polished façade was when he’d seen her face contorted in ecstasy.
Sam put his hand in his jeans pocket and closed his fingers around something he’d kept with him since the night before. Making sure he was alone; he opened his hand to a delicate silver chain with a beautiful pendant in the form of a crescent moon. The detail on the piece was exquisite, and softly reflected the light. It was handmade with great artistry, and he wondered if Orla had noticed it was gone. He hadn’t noticed it until he’d removed his Kevlar and his eyes caught on the jewelry trapped in one of the straps. What did it mean to her? The more he learned about the woman, the more he wanted to know, and that was a big no-no. In the past, he would’ve been wary of having a journalist so close, and now, it wasn’t an option, no matter how great the temptation.
His thumb traced the crescent shape one last time before he put it back in his pocket. He considered popping back to her apartment to find out what she’d learned, but his train of thought was interrupted by the familiar lurking shadow of the team’s annoying hacker.
“You have no fucking stealth, Devin. You should stop trying to sneak up on any of us.”
Devin snickered and hitched his ass on the desk, towering over Sam. “I don’t need to have stealth to be dangerous. I just need a computer to make your life a living nightmare. Or snitch on you to Lance after your little stunt with the journalist. Maybe I should have recorded it and sold it online. I would have made a bundle releasing a video of Chicago’s legendary vigilante’s dick.”
Sam would’ve snapped at him, but he knew Devin well enough to know that while the man liked to tease, he was too loyal to do such a thing.
