Page 2 of Soft Tissue Damage
“There you go.” Sitting back on my heels, I look at her untied sneaker. I should probably leave it alone and get to my feet, but I don’t want to. I can fix this for her. I grasp Elena’s shoelace ends, tighten them up, and tie them in a bow.
The young woman smiles down at me and tucks her hair behind her ear. “That’s so sweet of you, sir. I’ve been meaning to fix that for the last ten minutes, but I’m trying to catch up with my tables.”
The soft way she sayssirhas me smiling up at her. “We can wait. Take care of yourself first.”
As I stand up, her head tilts all the way back so she can keep looking me in the eye. I tower over her. At a shade over six-foot-seven, I’m taller than just about everyone I meet. Strangers sometimes ask to take photos with me. I often have to duck through doorways. Elena doesn’t come up to the middle of my chest. I could engulf her wrist in my fist.
“I’ll try,” she promises. Her doll-like eyes are round and very blue. “Are you a police officer or a firefighter?”
“Why do you ask?”
“You remind me of one.”
The idea that I’m a cop is amusing, though I do cultivate a clean-cut look while my tattoos are covered. The tan sweater I’m wearing was chosen because it sayssecurity professional and dad of two. Even my ex never suspected what I really do.
“I own a home security business.” Security for dangerous assholes like Mercer. “Installation and security consultations.” Consulting with criminals about how best to break into some of the most secure buildings in the country. And I know how to charge for my work. Mercer’s custom security system in his home and insane hedge maze paid off my house.
“That’s amazing. I bet you make people feel safe all over Blackport.” Elena sounds wistful.
“I try,” I murmur, eyeing her curiously. Why doesn’t Elena feel safe? People have told me I obsess over making my clients feel safe, but it’s important. Men like Mercer deserve to feel safe, but it’s his wife and children who I’m really protecting. While Vivienne Mercer was pregnant, Mercer asked me to audit his entire security system to protect his young family. Once I was finished, a flower wouldn’t bloom in his garden without him knowing about it. Mercer’s money was welcome, but the grateful smile on Vivienne’s face as she held baby Barlow in her arms, and her belly was round with another pregnancy, was what made the job worthwhile.
Shaking herself slightly, Elena pulls a notepad and a pencil out of her apron. “Sorry, I don’t usually talk so much. What can I get you both?”
I sit down, and Mercer and I order. Elena writes it down with a smile; a smile that’s just so damn sweet. I glance out the windows of the diner. This is a shitty area full of bad men, and she probably leaves work in the darkto get to her car or the subway. Blackport is dangerous. She shouldn’t be walking around alone at night.
“So. The job,” I prompt Mercer once Elena has taken our order to the kitchen.
“Let’s eat first.”
I sigh in exasperation, but I know it’s pointless to argue with him.
Ten minutes later, Elena puts a Reuben sandwich and fries in front of me, and pork chops in front of Mercer. The food is surprisingly good.
“How did you find this place, anyway?” I ask around a mouthful of corned beef and rye bread.
“Put a finger on the map. I never have important meetings in the same place twice.”
“Clever.”
I finish my sandwich and most of my fries, and then push the plate away. I wipe my fingers on the paper napkin and throw it aside. “All right. The job. Let’s hear it.”
Mercer isn’t done eating, but he puts down his knife and fork, and his eyes darken with malicious delight. “Some associates of mine want a full infiltration plan done on a mansion in southeast Blackport.” Mercer describes an old but very secure house in one of the more upmarket areas of the city, and a number of stolen black market art pieces his associates want access to.
I like the sound of that. When you steal from other thieves, they can’t call the cops on you. An infiltration plan means these people want me to tell them, in great detail,how and where they can breach the house’s doors, walls, and security—which is my specialty.
“Who’s the job for?”
“I’ll get to that.”
I narrow my eyes. “You know there’s a long list of people I won’t work with in this city.” People who have gone back on their word to me. People who are irresponsible or have gotten others I care about hurt.
“Calm down, Arya Stark. It’s no one on your list,” he says, naming theGame of Thronescharacter who has a list of people she wants vengeance on.
“You don’t know everyone on my list,” I counter.
“Anyone ever tell you it’s not healthy to hold grudges?”
“Says the man who killed his father.”
