Page 9 of Nemesis
“I have a job for you,” he said, completely ignoring my comment. I returned to my phone and sat at the edge of the bed, rubbing the damp towel over my head to dry off my hair.
Before I could ask him what he meant, the sound of heavy pounding against my door echoed through the house. I stood from the bed, grabbed my phone, and pressed it to my ear.
“Hold on a sec,” I said to him while I headed into the living room.
My eyes darted out the window, but no cars were in sight. I made my way to the entryway and tossed the phone on the console table to pick up my gun. Clicking the safety off, I slowly approached the door and swung it open with one hand, drawing my gun up.
I was met with a completely unfazed Noah as he hung up on our call and placed his phone into the back pocket of his pants.
I gave him a quick once-over. He really looked like shit. His dark brown hair was unkempt, his eyes bloodshot, with dark bags beneath them. Telling signs that he probably hadn’t slept in days, something I was unfortunately quite familiar with.
He scowled at me and I lowered my gun, tucking it back into the drawer.
“You look like shit, my friend,” I said, cocking a brow at him.
He offered me an annoyed glare before marching in, forcing me to step aside. “We need to talk and I don’t have a lot of time,” he stated irritably, holding up a file as he headed straight for the kitchen.
“Please.” I waved my arm before shutting the door behind him. “Do come in and make yourself at home.”
He stood behind the kitchen island and did a once-over, frowning when he noticed my state of undress. “Why are you only in your underwear?”
“I just stepped out of the shower. Didn’t think I’d have company atonein the morning.” I huffed, annoyed at his tone, as I went to my bedroom to put some clothes on.
I grabbed a shirt that was lying around and brought it to my nose to make sure it didn’t smell before pulling it on, then stepped into a pair of sweatpants. I reemerged a moment later and took a seat in one of the island chairs across from him.
Leaning back in my chair, I started drumming my fingers against the marble countertops. “What’s this all about?”
“I have a job for you,” he stated, his whiskey eyes drilling into my dark ones.
I raised a brow, waiting for him to elaborate, when he thrust the folder he had in his hand in my direction and I reached out to grab it. Flipping it open, I retrieved the thick stack of papers inside and dispersed the contents out onto the counter.
There were a dozen black-and-white pictures of the same woman in different settings.
I tilted my head up. “Who’s this?” I asked, confused as to why he was giving me countless snapshots of this woman.
He leaned against the stove and crossed his arms over his chest. “Olivia Morales. Your new assignment.”
Morales…I played with the name around in my head a few times. The name seemed familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it.
I reached for one of the pictures, analyzing it before glancing back up at him. “Who is she?” I paused when the word assignment finally clicked in my mind. My drumming slowed to a stop, a hollow laugh escaping me. “Wait, what do you meanmy new assignment?”
“Victor Morales owns Morales Industries, the textile company that’s looking to expand globally. Last night, he and his wife came home from their wedding anniversary dinner to a threat on his wife’s life.” He pointed to a picture of a scanned note.
My eyes quickly scanned the writing but stayed focused on the last words.
Will history repeat itself?
“What does this even mean and how does this have anything to do with me?” I asked irritably, flipping through the rest of the grainy surveillance photos.
They were all taken from a distance and the subject seemed to always be wearing glasses that were hiding the majority of her face. I couldn't get a clear picture of what she really looked like, but that didn’t stop my eyes from roaming over her curvy figure and her dark curly hair that grazed the middle of her back.
When I looked at her, only one word came to mind.Beautiful.
He cleared his throat, snapping me out of my trance. “He’s looking for someone to protect his wife and I gave them your name.”
My fingers tensed over the picture I was holding, my brows furrowing. “I’m not a fucking babysitter and I don’t have time for this,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Like you have anything more interesting to do.”
