Chapter 22 #2
I help Becca make her way to the first floor, taking her into the office set up as a sort of hub.
Computers line every surface, and someone is always on speaker phone with some guy named Isaac who’s in charge of helping coordinate the technical end of everything.
Owen is already inside, looking unnervingly decent in a tux and slicked back hair.
Luca is fitting him with a wire and lapel camera, making sure everything is in place and hidden from view.
Once Owen is set up, they switch, with Owen getting Luca in order while I handle Becca.
The wig she’s wearing is voluminous, making it possible to hide quite a bit. The dress, with all its reflective surfaces, is also great camouflage. I run the wire from where the receiver is tucked just beneath her cleavage, over her rib cage and up to her neck line.
Becca holds perfectly still, eyes on my face as I work. “What do you think will happen if they figure out who I am?”
“They aren’t going to figure out who you are.” I glance at her hair and the glittery design on her eyes. “You look like a fucking disco ball. Anyone who looks directly at you will probably go blind.”
I can only hope.
Becca gives me a small nod, pressing her glossy lips together before asking, “What do you think will happen if I figure out who they are?”
I understand where she’s going with this. If someone had my sister—or, God forbid, my niece—I don’t know that they would exist for long once I identified them. I’m not sure I have the self-restraint to bide my time in a situation like that.
And I won’t blame Becca if she doesn’t either.
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” I adjust the long waves of her fake curly hair, making sure there’s no possible way anyone can see the communication devices hidden on her body. “And if I have to cross the bridge carrying a couple dead guys, then that’s what I’ll do.”
If she happens to end some lives during tonight’s party, I’ll make sure they are never seen or heard from again. Just like Pierce said. All I want is to support her. To have Becca’s back the way she has mine.
She gives me a small smile. “Okay.” Taking a deep breath, she squares her shoulders. “But I will do my best not to make any messes for you to clean up.”
“Much appreciated.” I want to kiss her, but I know I can’t. It’ll mess up all of Raven’s hard work. My eyes drift to where Owen stands off to one side. “I’ll do my best not to make any messes either.”
I don’t fucking like Owen, but if he keeps Becca safe tonight—and his hands stay off her ass—I’ll probably hate him a little less.
But only a little.
“I’m back.” Raven’s voice carries in from the atrium outside, loud and clear. A second later she steps into the office and the room goes silent.
I swear I hear a hushed ‘holy shit’ from behind me, but I can’t tell if it comes from Owen or Luca as everyone stares at the dark-haired woman who might actually end up getting more attention than Becca.
And that’s a good thing. Because if this moment is any indication, I think Raven might be a little better at handling all that attention.
“Holy cow.” Becca steps toward the cosmetologist, her dark eyes wide as she takes in her new friend’s quickly assembled ensemble. “You look gorgeous.”
I have to admit, she’s not wrong. I still only have eyes for Becca, but I can objectively see how attractive Raven is.
She was already on the taller side, and now that she’s in heels, her height is almost startling.
In a good way. Her thick, dark hair has been pinned back in areas, getting part of it out of her face while a few thinner pieces drape down, curling over her arms and around a set of boobs I hadn’t realized were so… Ample.
The things are everywhere. I hope to God they don’t have to run, because there’s a good chance Raven will take out everyone within ten feet.
Like before, she’s still dressed head to toe in black, but now it’s fitted and sleek instead of oversized and baggy. The design of her floor-length gown shows off not only her chest, but also her impossibly small waist and extremely well-endowed behind. She’s like a modern day Elvira.
But way more intimidating.
Pierce still looks entirely unhappy about what’s going on. He waves in the general direction of Raven. “Luca. Raven. Raven. Luca.”
Raven gives Luca a terrifyingly sweet smile, walking toward him in a way that has her upper half testing the limits of her neckline.
She stands right in front of him, bringing a hand to his chest where she toys with the buttons of his shirt.
“You must be my pretend boyfriend.” Her voice is low and breathy. “I’m a lucky girl.”
Luca stares at her wide-eyed for a few seconds, like he’s not sure what the fuck to say back. He’s just opening his mouth when Raven spins away to look at Pierce, angling one brow. “How is that? Good enough to fool all these fuckheads you’re investigating?”
Pierce drops the hand that’s been consistently squeezing at his temples, looking over the cosmetologist for a second before slowly smiling. “It was fucking perfect.”