Page 69 of Skin Deep

So why did I feel so damn guilty?

I shouldn’t have sat around all day. I’m going to get fat, especially with as much as Pax likes to cook for me. I glanced over at him in the passenger seat next to me.

Pax sat calmly, his trusty baseball bat resting between his knees. He’d insisted on bringing it, even though I told him we wouldn’t need it. He said he never went on a job without Jackie, which was apparently the name of his bat.

“Why Jackie?” I asked to distract myself from the silent minutes ticking by.

He pursed his lips and raised an eyebrow at me. “After Jackie Robinson?”

I shook my head, clueless as to what he was talking about.

“First Black man in the MLB. Played for the Dodgers back in the forties. Six World Series, Rookie of the Year, all-star player for six consecutive seasons… You don’t know him?”

“I don’t follow sports,” I said, frowning. Nikita liked baseball too. He was obsessed with it. I wasn’t sure how I felt about my boyfriend and my estranged father having something in common.

“Nah, I bet you’d rather have your nose in a book, huh?” He flashed me a lopsided smile and reached to touch my hair.

I pulled away. “Stop. You start and we’ll be in the backseat in five minutes.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he teased.

“Itis. We’re working.”

“We’re waiting,” Pax corrected. “Work doesn’t start until the phone rings.”

Almost as if on cue, my phone vibrated in the cupholder. I snatched it up and verified that it was a text from Beau before shooting a one-word text to Xavier:Go.

“Showtime?” Pax asked.

I nodded and grabbed my pre-prepared syringe from where it was resting next to the phone. Pax passed me the zip ties and I pocketed them as we got out of the car.

The night air was oppressively humid, and the parking lot reeked of car exhaust, beer, and piss. We kept our heads down and walked briskly to the nearby alley. In my mind, I was still counting down from three hundred. Beau had said he always ordered his vodka five minutes before leaving, which meant we had five minutes, give or take. As the count approached zero, Pax and I took up our spots on either side of the alley exit.

I glanced up at the camera pointed at the back door. My visit to the Foxhole hadn’t just been about following Bowen. I’d gone to check out the security, which Xavier had called “as secure as wet cardboard.” The camera pointed at us wasn't recording the kidnapping we were about to pull off. Instead, it should be on an eight-second loop of grainy alleyway footage.

I hit zero on the count and frowned. Bowen was taking his sweet fucking time.

We only had to wait a few more seconds before the back door opened and Bowen yanked a nervous-looking redhead in clicking heels into the alley with him. He was so focused on dragging her out that he didn’t even notice us.

Paxton and I stepped forward as one, sticking to the plan. I went for Bowen while Paxton grabbed the girl, wrapping a hand over her mouth so she didn’t scream. I grabbed Bowen’s arm and yanked to spin him, flicking the cap off the needle quickly.

“What the—” It was all he had time to get out before I jammed the needle into his arm and pushed down the plunger.

As soon as I’d finished the injection, I shoved him against the brick wall, forcing my hand over his mouth to shut him up. He tried to push me back, but his movements were sloppy. Either Beau had given him something strong or he was stupid drunk. Either way, he couldn’t get a good hold on me. His eyes flared wide when he realized what was happening and darted around the alley as if he expected to find a friendly face, but there wasn’t one. Not for him.

Bowen’s eyes rolled back, and I released him as his body went limp, letting him fall on the dirty alley ground.

“Fucker,” spat the woman, whom Pax had already calmed down. She reared one high-heeled foot back and kicked Bowen in the ribs before spitting on him.

“Take it you’re not a fan?” Pax said, taking a zip tie from me to secure Bowen’s arms while I got his ankles.

The woman lit a cigarette with shaky fingers and blew a breath into the night air before answering. “I won’t be crying if he doesn’t come back is all I’m saying. Beau said you boys’d take care of me?”

I nodded and pulled an envelope of cash from my back pocket. It was the same cash Nikita had given me for the job, minus a small fee to pay for my gas and time. “This should cover you for tonight.”

“And then some. You boys are doing all of us a favor,” she agreed, counting the contents. She flinched away as Pax hauled the unconscious Bowen up onto his shoulder. “What’ll you do with him?”

Pax looked at me.

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