Page 66 of Flame
“What about attempted murder?” Rafe says with deliberate malice. “Only it hasn’t happened yet.”
He takes a step forward, and Ace draws his knees beneath his chin, looking even smaller in comparison. “Hey! Don’t touch me—”
“What about a sex tape?” I blurt out.
In hindsight, I have no idea why I brought it up at all. My chest is heaving, my pulse racing, but with every heartbeat, I feel less petrified than I should.
Rafe, however, goes rigid, while Ace scoffs, his mortal peril forgotten.
“With you?” He looks me over and sighs, unfurling his long limbs. “Nice, I’m sure, but not exactly worth my time—”
“Not even if it’s Rafe with the sister of a cop?”
“Oh, ho!” Ace sits forward, his grin mischievous. “Now, that sounds interesting.”
“No.” Rafe grabs my arm, but his touch isn’t anywhere near restraining. More protective. A warning. “That’s not for sale.”
“Too salacious?” Ace wonders, cackling. He spins to face me, stroking his chin. “Tell me more.”
Rafe shoots me a warning glance, but I ignore him.
“Would that cover it?” I ask, stepping forward.
Ace continues to spin in his chair, seemingly mulling it over. “This information must be pretty pricey. Maybe I’m lowballing? What else do you have, pretty girl?”
“Take it or leave it, you greedy son of a bitch,” Rafe growls. “You have five seconds to decide.”
Ace’s bravado lasts all of three. “Okay. Okay,” he says, raising his hands in surrender. “Give me the phone.”
Rafe hands it over, and Ace whirls around to the computer monitors.
“Well, I can tell you one thing,” he says after a few moments of typing and navigating various screens. “The GPS coordinates all trace to various locations around the city—”
“Give the man a medal,” Rafe says mockingly, clapping his hands. “I could have fucking told you that without playing hacker.”
“That’s not all,” Ace snaps. “Check it out.” He prints a sheet of paper that he hands to Rafe. “Read it and weep. Those locations correspond directly to incoming shipments from a supposedly defunct import. The owner’s identity is cloaked in a layer of secrecy and obfuscation up the wazoo. Damn, do you know what this means?” A real hint of trepidation seeps into his voice, making Rafe take a step closer.
“Why don’t you enlighten us?” he suggests, his irritation apparent.
Ace continues his computer search, switching from various screens to another. Suddenly, he pushes away from the desk so quickly he nearly barrels Rafe over. Spinning to face us, he crosses his arms over his chest. “It means you’re in some deep, deep shit, Wei-Shen,” he says. “Shit that even a sex tape won’t be able to make worth the risk. Our deal is off.”
He snatches the phone from the desk and tosses it to Rafe.
“What the hell? You can’t—”
“I don’t fuck with human trafficking,” Ace says, squaring his chin defiantly. “So beat me up if you want to. If you make me go down this rabbit hole, I’m going to the cops. Shit, the FBI would probably be better.”
“What are you saying?” I ask, feeling my eyes narrow.
“I’m saying that whoever had that phone was meddling into some deep shit. The information speaks for itself, but don’t expect me to spell it out.”
I turn to Rafe, and our gazes meet. One look at him and I know he’s just as confused as I am. “What the fuck are you talking about?” he demands, speaking to Ace.
The smaller man shakes his head. “Trust me, Wei-Shen. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll turn tail from this too. Now get out. Now, before you’re fucking seen.”
He bounds to his feet and ushers us into the hall with a jerk of his chin. “Out.”
Rafe doesn’t move. “What do you mean human trafficking?”
