Page 67 of Draven

A layer of icy sweat ripples along the back of my neck. “There’s always a choice, Lola, and you’re making it.”

“Don’t you dare blackmail me,” she rages, her cheeks blooming red now instead of pink. “This isn’t an either–or situation.”

“I never said it was.”

“No, but you implied it.”

I walk away, crossing over to the window where rainwater trickles down the pane of glass. I sigh, then turn to face her. “Jesus, you are one frustrating female.”

“I learned from the best,” she says, her anger withering as an unwilling smile pulls at the corners of her mouth.

“Is there anything I can do to talk you out of it?”

A muscle flutters in her jaw, and her stance widens. “Not a thing.”

I growl in frustration. “Then, I need you to do something for me, and if you care about my feelings at all, you’ll agree without argument.”

Louise cants her head. “Oh, yeah? And what might that be?”

“Let’s call it an insurance policy.”

“And you guarantee it’s undetectable?” I ask for at least the fifth time. “That to anyone else it’ll look like a regular tattoo?”

Dayton Somers, one of New York’s wealthiest businessmen, rolls his eyes. “Repeating myself bores me.”

When Louise had dug in her heels, I’d thought of Dayton first. He’s a tech genius, and while I don’t have my finger on the pulse of the latest technology advancements, I knew he would.

I met Dayton over a year ago when I carried out an investigation after his girlfriend had some trouble with her ex. I like the guy enormously, and when Louise insisted on putting herself right in the heart of a dangerous and unstable situation, I’d hoped Dayton would have a technical solution to our problem.

As luck would have it, he does.

“I’ll put an app on your phone,” Dayton continues. “It’ll let you know her whereabouts within a few feet. But remember, it’s just a prototype, so expect the odd glitch here and there.” He turns his attention to Louise. “If you want to go ahead, I’ll need you to sign a disclaimer.”

“Can I pick the design of the tattoo?” she asks.

“Sure,” Dayton replies. “It has to be at least two inches square for the GPS buried in the ink to transmit, but apart from that, there are no restrictions. You can have a flower, or a skull, or your favorite animal. Anything really.”

“What happens afterward? Can it be removed?”

“We can’t remove the tattoo, but we can eradicate the GPS transmission element.”

“Good,” she says. “Because once this is over, I’m not having this big oaf knowing my whereabouts twenty-four-seven.”

Dayton laughs while I glower.

“I like her,” Dayton says. “She’ll keep you on your toes.”

“You have no idea,” I mutter.

Louise nibbles her lip, ignoring me. “Okay, let’s do it.”

“You’re sure?” Dayton says. “You don’t feel like you’re being coerced?”

I snort. “Shows how little you know, Somers. No one forces Lola into doing anything she doesn’t want to.”

Dayton raises an eyebrow. “I know someone else like that.” He’s referring to his wife, Christa, but the slight misty look in his eyes tells me he doesn’t mind one bit.

“I’m good.” Louise turns her phone toward Dayton. On the screen is an image of a tawny owl in mid-flight, its wings fully extended. “Kiera loved owls,” she explains.

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