Page 28 of His Lair
Honestly, it’s nice that he cares. It’s also a little insulting to the whole female population that he thinks I need a man to protect me. Again, I bite my tongue because he can’t know just how capable of defending myself I am.
“Thank you,” he says.
As soon as I step into the hallway, I pull out my phone and text Emmanuel. The guilt eats at me, but it’s a job. I have to keep reminding myself that it’s a job.
Me:
Just left Sammie’s place. Something’s wrong.
My phone rings, Emmanuel’s name flashing on the screen. “Mom, I can’t really talk now. Can I call you back?” I ask him.
“He’s having someone follow you, isn’t he?” E says.
“Yeah, I’m good.” I don’t know how much the guy walking two steps behind me is actually listening.
“Okay, you left him in his apartment? Was something out of place? Like his shit?” E continues talking anyway.
“What’s the deal with that?” I counter.
“Answer the question, Lailani,” E grunts.
“Yes, I’d love to have coffee with you soon. My machine broke, and then I dropped my favorite mug into the sink and cracked that too. I was so upset I couldn’t bring myself to throw it out, so I just left it sitting there,in the sink,” I say cryptically.
“A cup was left in his sink?” E asks without missing a beat.
“Yes,” I answer, and the line promptly goes dead.
“Thanks, Mom. Talk to you tomorrow. Love you too,” I say before pocketing my phone. I turn my head and glance over a shoulder, making eye contact with the guy strolling behind me.
He stops as we approach my building, but when I go up to my apartment and peek out onto the street from my window, I spot him still standing there. I head to the bedroom and reach a hand into my closet. I have no plans of staying in tonight when clearly something’s wrong.
Whatever it is, whoever Sammie thinks left that cup in his sink, he doesn’t want me anywhere near the problem. I get that he’s trying to distance me from the danger. And I can’t break my cover, because: one, I happen to like being paid; and two, I also like keeping my head on my shoulders.
I pull down the duffel bag that’s shoved towards the back of the top shelf and throw it onto my bed. “Who do I want to be tonight?”
I have three different disguises that I use. One is a fiery redhead with long, thick waves. I call her Gina. Then there’s Trinity, a brunette with a short pixie cut. Picking up the blonde bob, I smile. Tonight, I’ll be Diana.
I scope out my makeup kit, because each persona has their own unique look. And when I transform into any of them, evenIhave trouble recognizing myself. It takes thirty minutes for me to become Diana. And a few minutes after that, I’m strolling out of my building in a tight black latex mini dress.
I smile at Sammie’s soldier. He takes his time perusing my body before he gives me a smirk in return. If I had time, I’d test him out more. Try to lure him from his position. Find out just how good Russo’s men really are.
I don’t have time, though, so I keep walking. And Sammie’s guy doesn’t try to stop me. A few minutes later, I’m walking back through the doors of Wild Card. I can’t go up to Sammie’s apartment. What I can do is walk the casino floor. See if I notice anyone hanging around. After thirty minutes of not spotting anything out of the ordinary, I decide to go up to the front desk and book a room. Requesting the best available option.
I end up getting a room two floors below Sammie’s apartment. I don’t bother going inside it. Instead, I open the door to the staircase, making sure to keep my face turned downwards. Any cameras pointed in my direction will have a hard time running the top of my head through facial recognition.
I take slow steps up the concrete staircase. It’s not until I reach the next level that I hear voices and stop. Bending, I slide my heels off and then continue to walk up the stairs, pressing myself against the railing so they don’t see me while I listen.
“They got him,” a male voice says. “It’s only a matter of time before he leads them to us.”
“No, he won’t,” another voice replies. “You need to chill, man. Russo is already on high alert. If you don’t calm your shit, you’re going to give us up.”
Who the fuck are these guys?It doesn’t take a genius to realize that whatever they’re talking about, it’s not good for Sammie or his friends.
I slide the pistol out of my thigh holster at the same time I grab for the silencer I have hidden on the other side. Careful not to make a sound as I twist it in place. The idiots don’t notice me until I’m literally five steps behind them.
“Who the fu—” The rest of the fucker’s words are cut off by the bullet I put between his eyes.
The second guy reaches for his waistband. I land a shot to the shoulder of the same arm, and he falls against the door.
