Page 27 of The Kingpin's Call Girl

“I’m sorry you had to...” He blinks. “How did he seem?”

“How did he seem? I don’t know.”

“You don’t understand who this is. The tiniest scrap could be important. Was his mood happy, angry...”

A lot of words stream through my mind. Dark, dangerous. Extreme. Troubled. He likes my scorn of him. Sexier than any man I’ve ever met.

Coolly as I can, I say, “He seemed like a dangerous and mysterious man of few words who showed very little to people. Everybody was scared yet wanted his approval, but he barely gave it. Later, he seemed like a mob guy who wanted to have sex.”

I grab a napkin and use it to extract Luka’s phone and the stack of money.

“What’s all this?”

“Luka’s going to be calling me to come to him whenever. Maybe you can use it to find him or something. I don’t care. You could probably run it for prints. I’m sure the money’s drug money. Maybe there’s blood on it. Or drug residue.”

“Jesus!” Bender snatches the bills and the phone and shoves them into his pocket. He throws a twenty onto the table and practically drags me out into the cool night.

“What are you doing?”

“He could have geolocation turned on that thing. You want him to think you’re a CI? You stopped at a cop diner! Fuck.”

“Don’t worry, I turned it off.”

He glances at me, surprised. Like he didn’t think that would occur to me. “It’s off?”

“Yeah. He had it on, and I switched it off.”

“Still. There could be a redundant one.”

A chilly breeze blows down empty sidewalks. A light turns green, and cars speed by.

I jerk away my arm. “I can walk on my own, thank you.”

“So he’s calling you. When?”

“Whenever he wants. You’ll probably find over twenty-eight thousand in that stack.”

“He wants you back.” More of a question than a statement.

I shrug.

He sends a text to somebody. “This way.”

“Where are we going?”

“Meeting somebody. What’s your class schedule like for the next two weeks?”

“What does it matter? Busy.”

We’re at a light. “Look... I need you to... keep up this act for just a little longer.”

“What?”

“If he calls.”

“Excuse me? No!” I say. “I can’t.”

“You don’t understand—this is major.”

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