Page 12 of Chad's Chase
Twelve years ago he was eighteen, and I was ten, and that was the last time we saw each other. I looked absolutely nothing like I did when I was ten. Plus, I’d be surprised if that evil bastard remembered the Byrd family. Not a chance.
In addition, Jhay Byrd should look twenty-two, and I was sure I didn’t. Sure, I looked much older.
The way I walked, talked, acted, was all learned in training. When undercover, I was expected to be the best of the best in whatever my cover was.
If there had been any doubt in my mind that Chad wouldn’tnotrecognize me when he saw me, I wouldn’t have been so brave to go after him without disguising myself.
But feeling his stare on me now, the unexplained uneasiness, was kind of jarring.
Raising the drink to my lips once more, I sipped, but tasted none of the gasoline-like bitterness that flowed down my throat, because my senses were honed in elsewhere.
Behind me.
He was right behind me.
A big, warm palm rested gently on my shoulder. The touch spoke words I couldn’t decipher. The touch delivered a message I failed to receive.
Breathe, Jhay. He doesn’t recognize you. You’re just paranoid.
Slapping a slutty stripper smile on my face, I tipped my head back, exposing my throat, and glanced up into the pools of blackness staring down at me.
He was sporting a nice, amicable smile, and his dark eyes were alive and dancing. No glint of suspicion or wariness as you would expect from someone who knew an assassin was in his building. No hint of the cruel, unapologetically heartless man who eliminated my family twelve years ago.
In fact, he appeared normal. Like just another hotshot in San Francisco. Except I knew better. Could he just turn himself on and off at any given moment?
“You’re Derek, aren’t you? The one who’s been sending Tori for my number all night?” Smile still intact, I shook my head, pretending he was some random customer getting on top of my nerves. “Sorry, but like I told Tori to tell you, I don’t date customers.”
Chad’s smile didn’t falter as he gave a slight shake of his head. “No. Not Derek.” Removing his hand from my shoulder, he gestured to the booth. “May I sit?”
I swallowed. “Sure.”
Okay. So here I was, right in the presence of the man I’d been chasing for months. I’d been figurativelyprayingfor this opportunity. But instead of being on top of my game, instead of reaching for my nearest weapon, I was…flustered?
Although I should have been prepared for a moment like this, an opening this wide, I wasn’t. Although I’d been watching the club entrance all night, I wasn’t fucking prepared. If I could strangle my damn self right now, I would.
I was too close to my goal to be losing my shit right now. I should always be prepared.
Always.
“So, Not Derek,” I said in a whorish drag when he was seated across from me, “what’s your real name?”
At this, he chuckled. And weird enough, I still liked that sound. It brought back good memories of when we were younger.
“Chad.”
Fucking hell, even his voice was still smooth and soothing, like warm milk pouring into a hot cup of French press coffee. Or something.
I leaned forward and fixed my elbows on the table in a provocative manner that pushed my breasts together, seductively beckoning. Moving my right hand closer to his, I walked my fingers up the back of his big hand and dragged the tip of my index finger in teasing circles against his skin. “Chad. That’s a really hot name.”
Slowly, his dark gaze lowered to my forefinger on his skin. Wordlessly, he just watched, an odd expression on his face.
Keeping my cover, I turned his hand over, palm up, and teased into his lifeline. “Anything I can do for you, Chad? How about a private lap dance? I promise to make it worth your while.”
Eyes moving from my finger and up to my face, he said, “I’m the boss. I don’t mess around with my workers.”
Keeping up the act, I quickly snatched my hand away from his. “Ohmygod, I’m so very,verysorry. I had no idea.”
A single nod. “It’s okay. You’re new.”
