Chapter 2
2
“ H ello?” I said into the phone as I stepped out of the elevator. “Lil?”
“Why haven’t you been answering your phone? I tried to reach you last night and earlier this morning!” was how my sister replied. “I thought I was gonna have to send Ray out to find you or something! You know you’re supposed to let me know when you get back in town!”
Ever since my younger sister, Lilith, found out about my profession, she had turned into a damn mother hen or something.
“Lilith, you do realize I’m an adult and I’ve been doing my job for literal decades, don’t you?”
“Whatever. How was your trip?”
“Great. I’m excited to add new products to our offerings at the FaceCard by Memphis King Day Spa .”
She was silent, but she knew better. We were on the damn phone! I wasn’t about to tell her shit about my trip over the phone.
“What was so urgent? I know you weren’t just calling to ask about my trip,” I continued.
“Oh! I wanted to remind you of the little get together Daddy invited us to. You know we gotta do it potluck-style since Pauline isn’t around to do the cooking. Do you know what you’re bringing?”
“Something store or restaurant bought, that’s for damn sure.”
“I figured as much.”
I made it down the hall to my apartment to see my front door slightly ajar, and as I reached into the back waistband of the leather pants Bo had bought me and grabbed my gun, I told my sister, “Hey, I gotta go. I’ll call you back,” and ended the call. Easing the door open, I held the gun up, letting it lead me into my home, and rolled my eyes when I saw Jerryn sitting on the sofa, his long legs stretched out before him.
“You get on my fucking nerves,” I gritted as I shut and locked the door.
He smiled. “Just showing you I was right, like I usually am. Security is too lax in this building.”
Rolling my eyes again , I stated, “Security knows you, negro. That’s how you got up here.”
“Right, but I could be a clone, an imposter.”
I stared at him for a moment before saying, “How you can manage to be a goofy ass and a genius at the same time is actually astonishing, and why are you here? I gave you a key to use in case of an emergency.”
“This is an emergency…of course.”
My stomach popped, dropped, and locked it, but my voice was calm and steady as I asked, “What emergency?” Had we made some mistake during the last job? Hell no! We didn’t make mistakes.
“Montana and I are concerned about our Raja.”
Raja, Swahili for King. My hacker, Montana—not her real name—had given me that nickname. Speaking of my favorite hacker…
“Montana can speak for herself, and why would either of you be concerned about me?” I asked.
“You froze.”
Sighing heavily, I dropped into an accent chair, placing my cell and small handbag on the little table beside me. “I didn’t fucking freeze. I never freeze.”
“What would you call it, then?”
“Something that won’t happen again.”
“It better not. It’s not just your life on the line. It’s mine and Montana’s too.”
Through a mirthless chuckle, I reminded him, “ I pay you . It’s not the other way around. Therefore, I’ll be the one doling out orders and warnings, Jerryn McReynolds. You just do your damn job and stop worrying about me.”
He nodded slowly. “You’re right, and my job is logistics. I plan this shit down to the second. So, when you let the clock run while you have a perfect opportunity to take the shot, it’s going to concern me.”
Leaning forward in my chair, I repeated, “Like I already said, it won’t happen again.”
He stared at me for a moment before standing from the sofa. “Good. I’ll look forward to hearing from you when another job comes up.”
“Uh-huh…tell your wife I said hi.”
He left without uttering another word. I’d hit a nerve…on purpose. He deserved it after tap dancing on all of mine.
Minutes had passed and I was still sitting in that chair when Jerryn texted me: By the way, nice outfit.
I glanced down at the leather pants and matching leather tank top that hugged every curve I possessed and rolled my eyes yet again. He was fucking with me. He knew I wasn’t a fan of leather, which told him I didn’t purchase this outfit for myself.
Bo Pierce was truly an asshole, so instead of replying to Jerryn, I sent said asshole a text: Fuck you for buying this outfit.
Bo: The sooner the better, baby.
As I did every day, I got on the Tor browser and logged into The Agency’s online portal to see if there was anything in my inbox. There was one message regarding a new assignment. I frowned slightly. This was a faster than usual turnaround, considering the judge’s expiration date was just a couple weeks earlier, but fuck it. I never missed an opportunity to do my public service.
According to the attached dossier file, the target was a United States senator. Since this was a rank-and-file member and not the Speaker of the House or someone with a comparable position, there would be no government issued security detail. Granted, they may have hired their own security, but a private firm didn’t have shit on the Secret Service. So, this was doable. Add in the generous seven-million-dollar payout and it was damn doable. After reading over the particulars and doing a little light internet research regarding the character—or lack thereof—of the target, I quickly accepted the job and contacted both Jerryn and Montana.