Chapter Twenty-Four - KATYA
“Well,” Ariel says in the ground-floor office of Hook-Me-Up. She’s holding her winter coat, just about to hang it on a hook off to the left of the lobby. “I thought you were in the shower.”
I look around, trying to determine if anyone is close enough to hear our conversation, and then decide I’m safe. “I had to get permission.”
I expect a ton of questions about that statement, but Ariel’s nod and acceptance reminds me that she is a professional. “Follow me.”
She slips the coat back on and pushes her way through the front door. I do follow—I don’t have much choice—and catch up with her at the curb.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
Ariel says nothing. Just looks left, then right, and steps off the curb to cross the street.
Again, I follow.
Thirty seconds later I realize where we’re headed. Sick Boyz tattoo shop. As soon as Ariel pushes the door open the buzzing of tattoo machines fills my ears. I follow Ariel down a hallway. One side is nothing but floor-to-ceiling examples of tattoos, the other side is a line of private tattoo rooms, four of which are filled with customers and artists.
The last room is empty and once we enter, Ariel starts talking. “No one can hear anything in this place. Lucky, huh.”
She’s right. If I were wearing a wire—and I’m not—the audio would be useless with all the buzzing.
“OK, tell me what we’re up against tomorrow.”
I screw up my face as I consider her question. “You’re not going to question my loyalties or accuse me of being a spy?”
“Are you loyal?”
I just blink at her for a second. “No. If I’m not fucking someone over I’m the one getting fucked over.”
“OK,” Ariel says, considering my answer. “But you are honest. So this meeting tomorrow. They set it up? These Silver people?”
“How much do you know?”
“Look, you’re back in town after four years and you’re trying to hook up with my brother. You’re his ghost. Can we at least agree on that?”
“I’m not here for him. I mean, I want to be here for him. But I’m here for Weston Conrad. The people—one of the people I work for. He wants something from Weston. Something to do with gold. And before you ask anything else, I don’t know any more. I work by direct order only. When you rang, I texted them, and their answer was to meet you. I’m assuming they thought they’d get some kind of intel out of it.”
“They won’t,” Ariel says. But then she says, “Is this about Weston Conrad’s secret treasure?”
“So much for not giving me intel, Ariel.”
“I’m pretty sure everyone involved already knows something about the treasure. And we’re not giving up shit. Clearly they don’t understand how many resources we control in Fort Collins. Believe me, we cover our bases.”
“You don’t cover your bases well enough to fool them, Ariel. I’m telling you—”
“Regardless,” she says, waving a hand. “What do you think will happen tomorrow? Do I need snipers?” She says this casually. Like she’s asking if I’d like fries with that.
“You have snipers?”
“Not on me, obviously. But I can get them. Do I need them?”
I consider her question for a moment. “I don’t think they’re going to make a move tomorrow. I think when I get back from that meeting they’re going to ask me what I know. And I’m going to tell them something and they will give me another order. That’s how it usually works.”
“Is this how you make money?” Ariel asks. “Oliver wasn’t too keen on telling me what you do for a living.”
“No.” I almost laugh. “I don’t take their money, for fuck’s sake. I’m their prisoner. Whatever they pay me stays in the bank account they set up. I’m not stupid enough to actually use it. I make money as an erotic artist.”
“Uh-huh,” Ariel says.
“Don’t call the kettle black, pot.”
She smiles. A small laugh comes out. “I’m not judging. I’m just curious what an erotic artist actually is.”
“Ask your father.”
Her face. Jesus Christ, her face goes from friendly to I-will-kick-your-ass in two seconds flat.
“It wasn’t a derogatory remark. I’m just saying your father used to paint naked women, OK? He’s what I’d call an erotic artist.”
“So you paint naked women?”
“I paint myself,” I say. “Naked.”
“Hmmm.”
“Is that enough small talk for you?”
“What’s your end game here? Get Oliver? Me? My parents? Who?”
“You’re asking the wrong person, Ariel. I’m not driving this car. I have no clue what they’re doing. I just want to save my little sister from being indebted to these people and I’ve worked my ass off for the past four and a half years to get her to this point. I don’t even know your secrets, OK? I have no clue why they’re interested in you.”
“But you’re here to find out secrets about Weston Conrad? Who hired you for that?”
“You don’t need to know that,” I say. “And I’m certainly not going to tell you.”
She looks away, focusing on something over my shoulder. “OK, then. Good talk.”
“That’s it?” I ask.
“You have something more to say?”
“I don’t know. Some support would be nice.”
“Support?” Ariel looks at me like she’s truly confused. “Oh.” She smiles. “I get it. Team-building. Well, Kat, I wish I could say welcome to the family, but I’m afraid I’m going to take your advice and not trust you. I’m going to assume you’ll be wired tomorrow, or you’ve told them the location—”
“I won’t be. And I didn’t.”
“—or you’re going to take our plan and find a way to fuck it up once you know about it.”
“I don’t think this is about your plan. There was never any mention of a plan. I think this is about gaining your trust. Getting you to let your guard down so I can—”
“Fuck me over. Well, I’m the fucker, Kat. Me. Not you. But we’ll go through with this and see what happens because Tori insists on it. I’ll walk you out.”
I wonder if I should try to keep the conversation going. Or ask if maybe Ariel might bring Tori over here right now so we could have a chat.
But a tall guy, with even more tattoos than Oliver, appears in the open doorway. “Excuse me,” he says. “You’re in my room. Is there something I can help you with?”
I look around for Ariel, realize she left me standing there, and then shake my head and make a run for the front door. When I push through, Ariel is just disappearing into her building down the block.
Good talk, Ariel. I hope we can do it again some time.
But in the meantime… I need to figure out a way to get Oliver’s attention tonight.
If my life is going to fall to pieces, then I want to spend every minute I can with the only man who can put me back together.