Page 40 of Taste of Blood
“Well, I guess it doesn’t matter at this point. You’ve confirmed we have a situation.”
That’s true.
“What do you want to do about the two clowns in my basement?” he asks.
“That’s up to you. If it was me, I’d let ‘em rot in there.”
“I might need it again before that happens.”
I think about it for a minute. Now that I’ve gotten the information I wanted out of them, I’ve lost interest. “Donnie and Jenkins like to play with their food. Maybe give it to them as a reward.”
He nods. “Good morale is important.”
When he doesn’t say anything else for a while, I figure he’s done with me, and frankly, I’m ready to head home and grab some sleep. The sun’s been up for an hour already, meaning I haven’t slept in two days. I drain my glass and set it on the table then stand up.
“I’ll see you tonight.”
“Cord?” he says as I reach for the door.
“Yeah?”
“Be careful out there.”
“I always am.”
16: Asher
IT’S BEEN A week since Cord fucked me against the wall at the murder scene, and I still haven’t gotten it out of my head. I pull out my phone a dozen times a day to text him, but I don’t know what to say that will convince him to see me again. I haven’t given up the idea of camping outside his apartment to ambush him, but I don’t have the stomach for the possibility of rejection.
I don’t know what that says about me. It’s been years since I worried about losing. Carlyle groomed me to be a winner, a shark in all transactions. I never back down from a challenge. It’s how I got to the top of the food chain in business. This thing with Cord, however, has me out of my element.
But the phone call I just got may be my way in. Despite his earlier reluctance, Carlyle contacted me to give me the name of the now-deceased serial killer Smyth’s mentor. While I have no personal interest in reaching out to the man, I wonder if Cord does. He said as much when he was beating Smyth, but that was last week. Who knows what he’s been up to since.
Still, it’s an ice breaker. I consider texting him about it, then decide to call instead.
It rings five times and I figure it’s going to voicemail when he answers.
“Yeah?”
Just the sound of his voice sets me off, and I have to fight to control my unruly libido. “I don’t know if you’re still interested, but I heard back from my source about Smyth’s mentor.”
“Smyth?” He’s quiet for a moment, like he’s thinking. Did he forget already? What does that say about his life? “Oh yeah. Is he local?”
“No. He lives in San Francisco.”
“Oh. Well I don’t have time to mess with that. Kind of got a situation going here.”
I take a chance. “Anything I can help with?”
“I doubt it.”
“Sometimes it can be helpful just to have someone to bounce ideas off of.”
I can almost hear his smirk. “Is that what you want, Asher? To bounce ideas off me?”
No, what I want is to fuck your brains out, but I’ll take anything I can get at this point. “Can we meet for a drink?” I hate the neediness in my voice.
He sighs. “Sure, okay. Where?”
