Page 111 of Mob Princess

I want to close my eyes and scream. This cannot be true.

“Did you hear the person speak French?”

“No. They called someone right after I agreed to help, but they spoke English.”

My phone presses against my leg as I kneel on my dress.

“Did the guy you met sound even more like this?” I exaggerate the accent I have when I speak French.

“Yes! How’d you know?”

Motherfucker. I tried to teach Ewan and Colt French when we were kids. They learned a little, but they never cared that much. They used to tease me about how Canadian French didn’t sound like what they heard in movies. No shit. Not the same French. Ewan and Colt would mimic me, then try to sound like Parisians. They got pretty good at it.

“Did you meet this someone they called?”

“Yeah. Once.”

“Man or woman? Could you hear any of their conversation? Did they have an accent?”

“Yeah. A man. Definitely had an accent.”

“What kind?”

“English from like England.”

Who the fuck is that? Who does Ewan know that would get involved in this?

“What’d they say?”

“The first guy I met confirmed I would lead the second guy through the back alley and into the strip club. That’s all I had to do. I had to distract Sean long enough for the English sounding guy to get in and look around. Then I had to leave fast once he gave me the signal he was in place. I don’t know anything that happened after that.”

“What did the English sounding one say?”

“Not much. He just agreed.”

“How’d the call end?”

“The man I met said he wanted it done soon, or it would get messy if he had to do it himself.”

“How much’d you get paid?”

I try not to speak through my teeth, but my jaw wants to clench.

“Ten grand.”

“You got the money already?”

“Yeah. Five upfront. Five was waiting for me here.”

“In your place?” I sound skeptical.

“Yes.”

I grin. “You gave them a way into your place?”

“No. It was just waiting here.”

“And that didn’t freak you out?”

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