Charlie
I’m running late. I dreamt about Jett last night. Oh gosh, it’s only been a few days since I saw him, but still. We were back in the campus hallway and this time when he leaned against the wall in front of me, he kissed me instead of flirting. Then he pressed me against the wall and I don’t remember much after that, but it felt so real my body is already warming at the thought of it and it was clearly good enough to let me sleep through my alarm.
Which is bad. Really bad. Especially when there is someone out there obviously watching me and Sam and all I can think about is Jett.
He is a distraction I can’t have.
A distraction I can’t afford.
I’m hopping through my apartment, searching for my other black wedge to go with my grey pencil skirt and pastel purple blouse. I need my heels. A personal banker needs her heels.
I mean, I could work without them, but I need this outfit because this is a confident outfit. And I need a confident outfit to figure out how to deal with whoever was following me yesterday because if I don’t have confidence, I will accomplish nothing all day at work, wondering if Sam is safe.
The unexpected knock at my door doesn’t help my current state of panic. I rush to it and find a pale-faced Whit staring back at me.
“What’s wrong?” I ask. I’ve been moved in for over a week now and I’ve never seen this look before. She has the day off and is watching Sam for me. Shit, I hope something didn’t come up. I don’t have anyone else to watch him.
“There is a gentleman here to see you,” she says, and I can hear the fear in her voice as the pitch changes by the last word.
Whit moves to the side and the same cold and dark eyes from the other day in the hallway meet mine. The cut-off shirt and holey jeans that reveal a small gun in the front make my heart lurch into my throat as I attempt to pull myself together.
It’s fine. It’s fine. He’s not pointing it at you. You’re fine.
I cross my arms and lean on my doorframe. I might look calm, but on the inside, I’m practically pop rocks and soda.
He smiles and glances between Whit and me.
“I don’t remember the last time I’ve seen two girls this hot at the same time. I must be hanging out with the wrong people.”
“I … uh, I …” My eyes focus on the staircase.
“You’re speechless. Perfect. This should go smoothly then,” Clint says and points inside my place. “You’re not going to invite me in?” he asks, stepping toward me.
“No,” I tell him just as he steps into the perfect spot for my eyes to finally meet his. It’s bad enough that he knows where I live; I’m not letting him into my space. Has he told anyone? How many other people know?
“We could talk about the mon—”
“Fine,” I say, cutting him off and meeting Whit’s eyes as Clint pushes his way inside my apartment.
“I’m sorry, I was getting something from the car and he was in the parking lot and then asked to walk me up the steps and—”
“It’s fine,” I say to her. “Give me five minutes.”
She nods, reluctantly.
I leave the door ajar and meet him in the kitchen where I find him pouring Captain Crunch into a bowl.
By all means, help yourself.
“I have to get to work,” I tell him, eyeing the silverware drawer as he pulls out a spoon. When he sits at the table, I slide toward the drawer. Steak knives are in the one below it and, well, I want to be prepared.
“I know. Which is why I’m here. I, too, have work to do.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket and dials a number. He takes a bite and gives me a closed mouth smile as he chews.
“Yeah,” he says. “I’m with her now.”
Who’s he talking to?
“Yeah,” Clint says once more and hands me the phone. “He wants to talk to you.”
As steady as I can keep my hand, I reach for his cell.
“Hello,” I answer and don’t miss the shaky tone of my own voice.
“Oh, good, I see you can take instructions just fine.” The cold tone sends a shiver down my spine.
Jimmy.
My mouth goes dry and my hands begin to shake.
“I want to remind you that you are the only person standing between me and what is mine. It’s very crucial that from this moment on, you do exactly as I say. Got it?”
A gunshot rings out through the line.
I start nodding like a Bobblehead in full swing.
“I’ve got it,” I tell him and the line goes dead.
Clint doesn’t give me much time to process anything: Jimmy on the phone, the money he wants back, the gunshot. Shit. There’s a lot to process.
“So you’ll call me when you have the money,” Clint says. It’s not a question.
“I’m not sure how I can help you.”
“You are the only one who can help us, Charlie, and I think you know that. I want the money. Every nickel, dime, and penny of it.” The snarl in his voice should have been my warning.
“I don’t have it.” The flare in his eyes tells me those weren’t the right words. “I told Jimmy this years ago. I don’t have his money.” My heart is beating so hard I feel like it’s just leapt up my throat and flopped to the ground.
Clint leans forward to say something, but a commotion outside distracts him.
“I’ll be in touch, but hear this: We know you have it. You’d be tied up and crying for your life if we were doing this my way, but we aren’t. One way or the other, I will get that money. If people die, so be it,” he says. “You know how Jimmy works. I’d be smart, Charlie.”
He stands, extending his hand with a smile. “It’s been a pleasure doing business with you, Ms. Campbell,” he says.
I don’t shake his hand and I don’t say anything. What the hell would I say?
He chuckles at my visible fear. “Oh, before I forget,” he says, pausing in my doorway. “Sam looks like he’s a pretty damn good soccer player, don’t you think?”
He doesn’t even wait for me to answer before he laughs and leaves. Whit rushes inside and slams my door.
“Who was that guy? And what the hell did his scary ass want from you?”
He wants me to give him money that I don’t have nor do I know where it is.
“Nothing,” I say with the best smile I can give her. “Just an old friend who wanted to say hi.”
“That’s not how I would go about saying hi to an old friend,” she says. Her eyes narrow, and a wrinkle forms between her brows as she stares at me.
I grab my purse and spot my other shoe. Slipping it on, I nod toward the door. “Ready?”
I follow Whit out. I’ve now got a bigger problem. Giving Clint the money would make my life so much easier, if I had it. I don’t. That leaves me with two options: run or make a plan. Running isn’t an option, not with a kid, so that means I need a plan and I need one quickly.
Jett
Dating someone during an assignment isn’t a smart idea. I don’t know how many times I have to repeat this to myself. Everyday maybe, till I get it. I’m heading up the stairs to Clint’s apartment, and I should be scouting my exits or checking my gun’s concealment or bracing myself for what’s behind the door. Anything work related. Not whether the girl I’m suddenly crushing on like a high school kid is thinking about me as much as I am her.
I knock twice, pause, and knock twice more. A grunt on the other side tells me I can come in.
I see him the moment I walk through the door. Jimmy Kincaid himself—drug lord, murderer, and thief. He’s got three times the tattoos Clint does, sans his face. Well, if you don’t count the three small cross tattoos under the corner of his left eye.
It takes me less than three seconds to pull my shit together and let my expression go blank.
“Jay, so glad you could make it,” Clint says, walking out from his tiny kitchen. He’s got a beer in hand. The same cheap brand that matches the empty bottles scattered about his apartment.
I glance between the two. Jimmy’s just sitting in the living room watching TV like he isn’t one of the most wanted prison break felons in this country, and Clint is acting like it’s the most normal thing in the world for Jimmy to be chilling on his couch. I could have been anyone walking through that door just now.
“You call, I show up,” I say.
My own words make me want to vomit.
“Jay, meet Jimmy. Jimmy, Jay. We used to be partners a while back,” Clint introduces us.
“What’s up?” I say. Jimmy just squints his eyes at me and then looks at Clint. Clint nods.
“My boy here tells me that I can trust you,” Jimmy says. He sets a handgun down on the table in front of him and leans back on the couch. “Why would he tell me that instead of letting me learn it on my own, huh?”
“Fuck if I know.” I take the seat next to him.
No small talk. I like it.
“Who did you work with before you met Clint?” Jimmy’s curiosity is punctuated with a fake smile.
I stare back. Giving up names under any circumstances isn’t applauded in this lifestyle. These idiots’ reactions aren’t as hard to predict as they think.
“No one you need to be concerned about.”
He licks his lips and moves his gaze toward Clint.
“You weren’t fucking around. He doesn’t share much information.”
“I told you,” Clint says.
“How do I know it’s not an act?” he asks.
“You’ll just have to trust me,” I say. “If you can’t trust me, how am supposed to know I can trust you?”
Clint and Jimmy exchange another look before turning their attention back to me.
“Give me a few days to set some things up. After that, I’ll let you know what role you can play in this.”
“In what?” I ask.
How long do these guys plan to jerk me around?
“Someone took something that wasn’t theirs, and I want it back,” he says.
“What did they take?”
I hate playing stupid.
“A whole lot of money, and that money is mine.”
Holy shit. I knew it!
“I’ll need a favor in return, of course,” I tell him.
“No, you’ll do what I say. Once I have my money, I’m out of here. I can’t risk any more than I already have. Shit, there is a good chance the fucking pigs already know I’m in town.”
At least one does.
“I don’t do any job or any favors for free,” I say. This guy is going to be harder to work with than Clint, but then again, his track record isn’t as simple as Clint’s. Jimmy has done just about everything you can think of: DUI, drug sales, rape, assault, robbery, murder, and so much more. I better have my shit straight, because if this guy finds out who I am, the chances of him killing me are high.
“This world is full of greedy motherfuckers. You’ll get a cut,” he says.
“How mu—?”
“If I trust you. Let’s not make me show you what happens to people who break that trust.”
We have another intense stare-off before I nod. Pushing him would only piss him off, and I need him to trust me.
“I’ll see you later then,” I tell him. I stand and twist to face Clint. “Call me if you need anything.”
“Sure thing,” he says with a fist bump.
I close the door behind me and free a long breath.
Holy fuck.
Jimmy knows where the money is. The infamous missing money. And I’m going to help him get it. Whatever role he wants me to play, I’m in.
Holy fuck.
I’m going to solve one of the biggest cases in the country.