Page 72 of The Bloke

“The Men Under Revue is a secret society; that should be explanation enough…” He paused. “If they haven’t tested you yet, they will sooner rather than later to ensure you can keep your mouth shut and their organization a secret.” Way to put things bluntly.

“Fine, whatever. No, I haven’t been tested yet.” I crossed my arms, mimicking his stance.

“If that’s the case, then you are more valuable than I initially thought you would be.” He pursed his lips in thought before chewing on his cheek. “We need you to essentially—play dead.”

“I’m not a dog, Landon.” Play fucking dead…Woof. “Quit tiptoeing around and just tell me what the fuck you need me for, or get the fuck out.” My patience was wearing thin, and I needed a break from everything, including his unwanted ass.

“Your test will require you to spill blood—commit murder—if that wasn’t obvious.”

“And let me guess, you want me to off my husband?” Not a fucking chance in hell. I may hate him, but not enough to kill him. “Or perhaps set him up for you to arrest and kill him instead?” The sarcasm that dripped from my lips was clear as day.

“No, now let me fucking finish…” He hissed through gritted teeth. I loved pissing him off.

“Your target is the same one we’ve been hunting down for months, a high-ranking member of a cult that has been slowly creeping its way into cities across the nation. We don’t want them here infiltrating Las Vegas, so we need to get a handle on it before things escalate any further. To do that, we need this man alive, which means you need to allow him to take you as a vulnerable hostage. Then, when the time is right, you’ll take abullet and fake your death so we can arrest him before the Men Under Revue can take him out.” That was a fucking mouthful.

“Why the fuck would I take a bullet for you?” I huffed a sarcastic laugh. “A badge of honor that means jack shit to me?”

“You aren’t taking it for me; you are taking it for your husband. He will want to help you with your test, but you need to force him not to. Taking the bullet will save his life because we will not hesitate to shoot or kill anyone who might prevent us from taking our target—alive.”

“How do you know my test and your target are the same person?” I questioned.

How could he possibly know who my target would be if I was only just now learning everything about my husband and this secret society he apparently belonged to? This was all too much for me today; my head was swimming with all the new information he was feeding me.

“That’s classified; if you had stuck around longer, you would know just as much as we do.” He shrugged. “But it’s the truth, and we need your help if you intend to keep your husband around well past this next month.”

A morbid statement coming from him. The thought of Colby dying to protect me from… what? My test? The LVSF? If what Landon was saying was, in fact, true… how could any of this be true?

“Faking your death will isolate all of the attention to you, distracting everyone while the rest of my men secure and extract our target from the area.”

“You’re asking too much of me.” I breathed, considering all of the complications that could arise from this.

“We are asking more than enough if you want us to leave you alone for the foreseeable future.” He admitted. “When the time is right, you’ll inject yourself with an antifibrinolyticcocktail serum to slow your heart rate and prevent bleeding out fromthe gunshot wound until medics can attend to you. Contact me once you receive your test so I can walk you through further instructions.”

And without another word, he turned and left the studio, my heart and soul feeling heavier than ever before. Why had Colby never mentioned I would need to pass a test?

After Landon had left, I made my way into the back of the studio, where my private dance room was set up, and I sat in the middle of the floor, staring at my reflection in the mirrors.

How the fuck was I going to pull this off…

FORTY-EIGHT HOURS PRIOR.

After my husband confirmed the when and where of my test, I contacted Officer Landon and had him meet me back at the studio to discuss precisely what he needed me to do.

I closed the studio but didn’t tell Colby. As far as he was concerned, I was working a regular shift today, nothing more.

Since he arrived home, he had been reeling about this test, and I didn’t want to worry him anymore by adding the extra layer of complication with the LVSF. It killed me to lie to him, to act as though I didn’t know anything but what he had told me.

I would have a lot of explaining to do with him later, and this alone may ruin our marriage, but I had to do whatever it took to save him—and us if I could. I just hoped he would understand.

“Carter.” Landon entered the studio, and I pushed away from the front desk and stepped around it to meet him. “I’ve got your contract.” He held up a long white envelope, and my eyes snapped immediately to it—my freedom from them.

“Let’s get this over with. I don’t have all day.” I snapped, crossing my arms over my chest.

“How your husband puts up with your bright attitude, I’ll never know.” He sighed, gesturing to the back room of the studio. “I’d rather not be seen discussing this with you here. Can we?—”

I rolled my eyes before turning on my heel and escorting him to the back room of the studio. I chewed my cheek, the only thing on my mind being my husband, who I hoped would peacefully sleep the day away.

When I caught him pacing the kitchen this morning, he looked pale and exhausted. It broke me to see him in such a state of distress and not be able to disclose everything I knew to comfort him. Fuck, I was a horrible wife right now…

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