Chapter Twelve
Jace
? “Something in the Way” – Nirvana ?
I told Lily to stay away from him. I need her to stay away from.
I follow them down the street, heading to downtown Manhattan. They stop at some bakery, heading inside. I don’t know how to get it through her beautiful blonde hair to her feckin’ noggin’ to stay away from him.
She should probably stay away from me too, but I like looking at her.
I liked her being in the VIP room with me.
The whole time, she thought I was focused on my laptop, but I couldn’t focus one feckin’ bit.
I was typing nonsense while stealing glances at her the whole time.
Her strawberry scent kept blowing straight to me with the AC.
Her big green eyes stared down at her hands—and that purple outfit...
feckin’ bollocks I wanted to rip it off her.
Then she left the room to get drinks, and I wanted to rip my clothes off and hand them to her so nobody would look at her.
I could only contain myself for two minutes before I followed her out of the section to make sure nobody was bothering her.
I stayed back, pretending I wasn’t following her, until I saw Mateo.
My eyes stay planted on the window to the bakery they’ve decided to stop at.
I take a random seat across the street, watching her laugh, throwing her head back.
She swipes her hair off her shoulder and takes her jacket off, showing off her porcelain skin.
I groan. I think about how possible it would be for me to shoot through the bakery window and put a bullet in the middle of his forehead without hitting any other civilians.
If I walked in right now, and sliced his throat with my knife, how much blood would stain her beautiful face?
Would she be scarred for life? Would she hate me for traumatizing her? For scaring her?
“What can I get you, sir?”
I look up from under my hood to see a waitress holding a notepad out. When I turn around in my seat to see where I am, I realized I’ve sat in another bakery. Who puts this many bakeries on one street?
“Just so you know, we close in about twenty minutes,” the waitress states, chewing hard on the gum in her mouth and blowing a bubble.
I quickly look at the menu. “An everything bagel, toasted twice, cream cheese, lots. And put shoes on it.”
The waitress nods as I hand her the menu. I turn my head to see Lily and Mateo have moved outside with coffee cups. I clench my fingers around the table as she laughs again at something he said.
What is so funny to her? What charms does he use to make her shine brighter than a star at night?
Why does my álainn woman think it is okay to just trust any man?
Trust anyone? Not in this century. Not in this world.
She should trust no one. Not even me. How can I ever focus on this case when she continues to insert herself into everything?
Rowan has been working from home. Hasn’t left his house in days, months, and right now, I could really use him.
Following Mateo for the past couple of days has truly been a pain.
His ex-wife is missing—missing a little too well.
It’s super easy for us to track significant others, but when they are missing to the point where we can’t find them, the case becomes an issue.
Then we have to start looking into the X factor—the husband.
Mateo is pushing all the wrong and right buttons.
He keeps quiet, clean on all his ends, but why would he hire us to find his wife just to serve her divorce papers and get a family heirloom?
Most men want their money back or try to bribe us to take out the wife for extra money.
Which never happens. We don’t kill women. And when a customer asks us to do that, we kill them instead.
Most of the men who go to Club Opal are under Axel’s protection, Mateo being one of them. Luckily, I was able to make a deal with Axel for Rowan and me—when that feckin’ gobshite decides to come out of hiding—to make a move on Mateo.
“You can sit here but I need to close your tab.” The waitress hands me a bag of my food and my check. I pull out my wallet and hand her a hundred-dollar bill.
“Keep the change,” I say, grabbing the bag when I see Mateo and Lily start getting out of their seats.
I continue to follow them from the opposite sidewalk and stop when I see him open the passenger door of his car for her.
If I pull out my phone right now and call her, she will know I am watching her.
She is getting herself into something she doesn’t want to be involved in.
I refuse to let her be blind like we were with the Rossis.
I have a feeling in my gut that something is not right, and I refuse to ignore it.
I jump into my car parked directly across from his and follow Mateo’s blacked out BMW. We drive all the way back to Lily’s house. She gets out the car, waves goodbye to him, and heads inside.
I pull into a parking spot a few cars down. Mateo is still pulled to the side of the road, waiting, even though Lily is already inside. People fill the streets and the sun is at its peak. If I am going to do this, I need to make it fast.
I hop out my car, keep my head down, and cross the street.
The universe decides to work with me today—A kid runs up to Mateo’s car and knocks on his window.
I hear the kid ask if he wants to buy some chocolate when I reach the trunk of Mateo’s car.
I pull my tracker out of my pocket and bend down to place it underneath his car as I simultaneously pretend to drop my phone.
I continue walking down the alley behind Lily’s house, dragging her neighbor’s trash can with me.
Let’s find out where you are hiding your wife, Mr. Davenport.