Page 12 of The Professional
Her bronze cheeks turned ruddy and her jaw tightened. She moved closer, and Forrest held his breath when Conall’s bodyguards shifted, their hands hovering toward their jackets where Forrest assumed their guns hid. Conall held his hand up to them and smiled at Diaz.
“Come on, you’re smarter than that. You touch me, and I’ll destroy your career forever. Do you really want that?”
Forrest couldn’t look away, his heart frozen in his chest as he glanced between them all, waiting for all hell to break loose. The room was so quiet they could hear the whine of the wind outside, rattling the trash cans right outside the front door. Thankfully, hell never came. The door opened, along with the loudwhooshof the winter wind that managed to sneak in too, and everyone’s eyes turned to it. Montague paused on the threshold, peering around carefully.
Forrest’s heart resumed its beating, but not for the better. He suddenly found it hard to breathe. The stifling room made his head swim, and each time he inhaled, it felt like nails scraping across his lungs. Montague was the last person he wanted to see, and even though Forrestknewhe was coming, he had hoped he’d be a little more intoxicated by this point. Montague was half an hour early.
“Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in.” Diaz gave him her full attention and took leisurely steps toward him. “I wish I could be surprised that you come here, Montague, but with the types you get off on criminal charges, I’m not.”
Montague smiled, and if he wasn’t been an abusive fucker, he might have been handsome. He had heart melting brown eyes, a sharp jaw with a neatly trimmed beard, and brown hair cut stylishly short against his head. His wide, but perfectly proportionate, nose sat perfectly on his square face, and like Rourke, he had sturdy shoulders with a narrow waist. He dressed fashionably in an open gray jacket that reached his knees and khaki pants, his shirt a light blue with a navy scarf wrapped around his neck. Anyone else might have swooned, Forrest did once too, but now Forrest only felt sick to the stomach whenever he saw him.
“I’m just here to support the homeless men and women who want to better themselves. I donate to the Virtue,” Montague said, as smooth as always. He became a lawyer for a reason. “I’m glad to see you know who I am, but I can’t say I know your name. A detective, I see, by your strong stance and that distasteful look on your face.”
“Mr. Montague, meet Detective Diaz.” Rourke stepped forward until he stood directly behind her. “She was just leaving.”
Diaz threw him a poisonous scowl over her shoulder and then looked at Forrest. Her dark eyes warned him she’d come for him too now that he’d shown his hand, and it made his stomach knot in fear. He wasn’t like Rourke or Conall, with the Killough Company protecting them. He was just another replaceable possession to the mob, and they wouldn’t defend him against her, no matter how much money he brought in for them. With that, she stormed out of the door, her heavy boots leaving smears of mud behind.
“Fucking bitch,” Sam hissed from behind Forrest. He stomped over to the marks she left, waving his hands at it. “Look at what she did to my floors, Rourke.”
Rourke sighed. “Clean it up, Sam.”
Sam muttered about stupid detectives before he spun on his heel and went to the reception desk, a fake smile plastered on his face as Montague walked up. Forrest couldn’t look away from the exchange of money. At least Montague only paid for an hour today.
Forrest jumped when Rourke placed a hand on his shoulder, making Rourke frown. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Forrest shook off his hold. “She tried to take a photo of me.”
“Did she get one?” Conall stopped beside Rourke with his bodyguards close behind him.
“I don’t think so. I looked away when she tried.” Then he shrugged. “But I don’t know. What would she do with it?”
“Figure out who you really are and then use your family to get to you,” Conall said, a frown creasing at his forehead.
“Well, we’ve got no issues there.” Forrest didn’t think his foster family would care about where he was now. As soon as he’d hit eighteen, he’d left their home without a goodbye and headed straight to the Virtue. He only knew about the place because Mr. Brassard’s real son, Abe, liked to frequent there. He’d suggested to Forrest that he’d be a good whore, and while it he'd meant as an insult, that was the only time Forrest had agreed with him on something.
Conall smiled. He grabbed both Forrest’s arms in a tight grip. “If she ever gives you trouble, Forrest, you know you can contact me, right?”
If only that were true. Conall still had no idea of his worth to the mob. They wouldn’t let his ex-lover and some random sex professional call him. Forrest knew his own value, though. He returned the smile anyway because the Forrest who Conall knew didn’t show insecurities. “Of course, sweetheart.”
“Good.” Conall kissed his cheek and nudged his head in the direction of Montague. “You’re as busy as always.”
Forrest forced back the grimace which nearly surfaced. “Did you expect any less from the highest earner in the Virtue?”
“Of course not.” Conall gave his arms a final squeeze before he turned his attention on Rourke. “I’ll head out for the day and go see Sloan. I’ve let him know what’s happened and we’re going to discuss it further. He might call an emergency meeting with the generals to discuss their next step, so you’ll hear from him or me.”
“Yes, sir.” Rourke tilted his head in acknowledgement.
Forrest understood the smile Conall gave Rourke. Most men in the company did what Conall said because of who he was to the boss, but Rourke was different. He showed respect in the way he reacted to Conall, and Forrest couldn’t ignore the jealousy. He wanted Rourke to look at him that way, to know that he respected what Forrest did.
Forrest watched Conall leave and when the door closed behind him, Forrest looked at Rourke. “Should we be worried about her?”
“No.” Rourke gestured to Montague, who’d just finished paying. Cash, like always, because it couldn’t be traced. “You should worry about him.”
Forrest knew he meant in a sexual way, but Rourke had no idea how right he was. Forrest’s tongue felt heavy in his mouth and hewantedto tell Rourke the truth, because hurting the Virtue’s property was against the house’s policy, but he couldn’t bring himself to do that. Fear lodged itself in his chest. Montague brought in big money for Rourke, and Forrest couldn’t ruin that.
He forced a smile onto his face and turned his back on Rourke. Sucking in a deep breath, he headed over to Montague. “Shall we take this upstairs?” Forrest whispered as seductively as he could.
Montague’s sinister leer made the hair on Forrest’s arms stand up. “I’ve missed you.”
