Page 42 of An Eye For Illusion

“Yeah, so you say. If you plan for me to believe it, you damn well better start looking and acting like it. You’ll get us both fucking killed with that sad expression and those puppy dog eyes.” His words pack a punch to the gut.

What we do is serious, and I’m well aware of it. He doesn’t need to remind me constantly.

“Okay, if you’re so ready... I’ll be Frankie, and you be who I told you to be.” He takes a wide stance and crosses his arms; his expression is taunting. “What’s your name, kid?”

“Jax,” I say confidently. The bastard didn’t think I’d remember the name I’m using. Oh, ye of little faith.

“Jax, what?” he asks, deadpan.

I furrow my brow; he never gave me a last name to use.

“Uh,” I hesitate.

“BANG! We’re both fucking dead. You can’t hesitate.” He throws his arms up in the air and starts to pace.

“We didn’t discuss a last name!” I yell back at him. “What the fuck, man? Don’t set me up for failure and then get pissed when I fail.”

He stops and turns to face me, his hands on his hips. “Colin! You have to think on your feet, man! Jax Smith, Jax Jones, Jax fucking Dildo. I don’t fucking care what it is, just say something! If you hesitate… If they get any inkling you aren’t who you say you are… That’s it. Game fucking over.”

Me doing undercover obviously causes Donovan more stress than I realized. He’s the calm, cool, and collected one out of us, and he’s anything but that right now.

I scrub my hands over my face. “Just Jax; no last name. I’m just Jax.”

He sighs. “They won’t question why you’re there because you’ll be with me. You’ll say we grew up together before you moved away, got in some trouble, and came back here. Keep the story simple; what they assume is up to them.”

“Were you a fucking asshole then, too?” I ask with a smirk.

“Yes, and I kicked your ass regularly.” He gives my shoulder a shove.

I know I can do this. I just need to get Jade out of my head and focus on the task at hand.

Something about walking into an abandoned dimly lit warehouse doesn’t sit right with me, but it’s my only chance of getting in with these guys. It’s my chance to catch Moore and be done with this case. I feel a pang of disappointment when I realize that might also mean being done with Jade. I push that feeling away from my mind. I need to focus so I don’t get Donovan and me killed.

The metal door slams behind us as we cross the threshold, reminding me there’s no turning back now. Three guys are propped against the bed of an older pickup truck. Unfortunately, none of them are Moore.

“Donovan, you made it.”

The shorter of the three guys pushes away from the truck and makes his way toward us. His baritone voice doesn’t match his short stocky build. His shirt is a button-up, but the sleeves are gone.

“Yeah, had to pick this guy up.” Donovan points at me as he speaks.

“Ah, you must be Jax. Donovan told me a little about you. I’m Frankie.” He extends his hand to shake mine.

I tip my head and give him a firm handshake. I don’t know if “nice to meet you” is appropriate to say to someone like Frankie. He seems nice enough, but Donovan insists these aren’t people to fuck around with.

“Donovan tells me you’re into cars,” Frankie says as he turns to walk back toward the other two guys.

“Yeah, mostly American muscle, but I’ve dabbled in imports.” I give myself a mental pat on the back for not fucking up the lingo.

“Donovan, Jax, this Carlo and Dirty Dino.” He offers the guy he calls Dirty Dino a smirk as he says his name.

Carlo leans across and extends his hand, which I shake. As I did with Frankie, I don’t offer more.

Carlo is medium built with dark hair and eyes like Donovan. He’s dressed casually in jeans and a t-shirt with scuffed work boots. His jewelry, however, gives away that he isn’t a working blue-collar guy. When our eyes meet, his expression tells me he doesn’t trust me or even Donovan.

Thankfully, Dino approaches to shake our hands, and Carlo drops his stare.

“Dino, just Dino.” He gives Frankie a look that implies he can eat shit for the addition to his name.

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