Page 11 of Break Me
Three
Caden callsme while I wait for Riley, tucked away on a stone bench between the building she’s in and a tiny little coffee shop with a line out the door.
“She okay?” is the first thing he says. As if on his flight from Raleigh to Toronto, I’d have lost sight of her or something.
I sigh. Heavily. “Yes.”
I can imagine him nodding. I hear the beep of a car, slam of a door, and then the sound changes as his car’s Bluetooth connects to his phone.
“You rode with her on the bus, right?”
I laugh, humorlessly. “No,” I say, and just before he starts to lose his shit, I beat him to it. “I drove her.”
Silence.
“How the fuck did you convince her to ride with you?” he asks, sounding equal parts in awe and irritated.
I shrug, unseen by him. “I didn’t ask. I told her.”
He swears under his breath. “That would never work with us.”
I switch the phone to my other ear so I can keep an eye on the cop still parked at the curb. Technically, I shouldn’t be in the States. They don’t like foreign criminals. But technically, my passport isn’t mine.
I’m still shocked at the audacity of that Ava chick to pull my joint from my damn mouth, but I’m also grateful. I hadn’t seen the cop. Which is unlike me.
“I know,” I say to Caden. “But that’s because you’re stupid around her.” I don’t mean it as a compliment, but I also don’t mean it as an insult. They’re not good together. It’s why they’re...good together. Which makes no damn sense and yet perfect sense all at once.
“Whatever,” Caden says, not even denying it. Then there’s the sound of his car driving down the highway, a quiet rumble in the background. But I know what’s coming next.
“Heard anything?” he asks, trying to sound indifferent.
“No.” Which pisses me off to admit, but it seems like Rolland Virani has disappeared off the face of the earth. “He hasn’t been to his house. And he hasn’t seen your mom.” I know, because I have people tailing her.
Caden blows out a breath. “Alright. If anything changes...”
“You’ll be the first to know.” Or second. Because I’d probably tell Riley first. Rolland won’t come for Caden. Not initially.
A pause. Then Caden says, “Thanks, man.” And I know he means it.
We hang up, and I wonder what he thinks about me. My work. Besides owning Shade, which is a hobby really that mostly takes care of itself. I know he doesn’t ask because he doesn’t want to know. He’s a lawyer, if not in practice. In practice, he’s the CEO of Scott Virani Enterprise, named after his brother. And while Caden is far from the most professional guy I know, even if he did ask me what I do for a living, for the real money, I would never risk his career like that. Especially not with Riley involved now.
Fuck, most days I don’t even know what I do. Hitman for hire? Dealer? Fixer? Yes to all of the above?
I tear my eyes away from the cop, not wanting to think about it. I served two years in prison, which is a hell of a lot less than I should have thanks to a good lawyer that my adoptive father paid for before he cut me off. I don’t regret what I did. But I don’t want to go back to prison either.
One day, I’ll stop doing this shit.
That day is not today. I pull out my burner phone and send a text to Felix, who takes care of shit while I’m away. He doesn’t text back. Which is a good sign. It’s when he texts me that I have to worry.
For ten seconds, I let myself think of Bianca. I close my eyes and imagine her: brown skin, long black hair, curves that made me wild. I think of her broken nose. The scar down her throat. Her bruised eyes.
And then I open my eyes and don’t think of her again. Not anymore today. Ten seconds is all I get.
I stand to my feet and walk inside Riley’s building, wondering how I’m going to convince her to invite Ava over for a drink. Because I really, really need one even if I shouldn’t have one. The Xanax I took this morning is starting to wear off.
They say you shouldn’t get high on your own supply. I don’t. I have a fucking prescription.
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