44. The Ghost
The Ghost
“You.”
Desmond freezes in his steps. But he doesn’t startle. He slowly turns, like he knew I was here all along.
“Bastien.” Like he’s greeting an old acquaintance.
My eyes narrow. Though I guess I need a man who isn’t easily afraid.
His hands are in his pockets, an easy set to his posture as he looks me up and down. No fear of the mask.
He’s been under Leo’s employ for years now. His custodian, of sorts. Nothing much probably does scare him.
It’s late. Mallary is deep asleep, the rest of the house quiet at the midnight hour. But Desmond—the man almost never sleeps. Not that I watch him too closely.
“That girl,” I say. “What’s her name? Aubrey?”
His smile slowly drops.
I grin.
He still doesn’t move as I stalk closer. I know there is a gun in his waistband. I know he can throw a punch. But he won’t.
He blinks, pretending now as if the name means nothing. “What do you want.”
“I wonder who has your leash—Leo, or her?”