Page 142 of The Kingpin's Call Girl

Edie’s wrist is looking and feeling a lot better, but I need to be sure, so I get her into a clinic to be seen right away. The doc gives us a heat therapy wrap and a positive prognosis.

Back at my condo, I reheat the wrap in the microwave and wrap it again—soft and loose.

“You can stop fussing now,” she says.

“Not likely,” I growl.

“I was so worried. He said he had sharpshooters around the lab, just waiting for you to show up!”

“I would’ve done the same.” I tuck in the edge of the thing just so.

“And there were more shooters inside, in case the outside guys weren’t successful. The whole thing was a trap!”

I fasten the clip. “How is this? Too tight? Impinged?”

“Not in any way impinged,” she says.

“Your sister is awesome.”

“Right? She’s probably got Odetta running around outside and visiting every ice cream shop in a ten-mile radius. But seriously—how did you find me?”

“You’re not going to like it.”

She narrows her eyes scornfully with that scorn that gets me so hard. I’m gonna miss that.

“I’ve got a few tracking devices on you.”

“What?”

“You got complaints?”

“Now that Bender’s dead? Yes, I’ve got complaints. I want them off.”

I kiss her.

“Seriously, you can’t do that. Tell me where.”

After some playful arguing and a dead-serious make-out session, I give it up. “Your shoe, your belt, and your bra strap.”

“Three? So, I’m like a walking transmitter here.”

A text pings. It’s Orton.

We need to meet ASAP Trevor St

So this is it, then. The results are back. I know what they’ll be. Like I told Orton, deep down, I know I’m not my father’s true son.

And somebody’s gonna kill me.

But I made my choice, and I’d do it again.

I text him back.

One hour.

“What’s up?” Edie asks.

I pocket my phone and head to my living room safe. I open it up and pull out the money. “We need to find something for you to carry this in.”

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