Page 35 of Three of a Kind

Gunner

My target, Lennox, walks into the coffeehouse. Ten minutes pass before another ten. I watch the exit, scanning for her. She’s been all over the fucking place today, and I’ve followed dutifully.

Which is a major pain in the ass in the middle of New York City.

I wish I had my bike.

It would make following her a fuck of a lot easier, but I’m currently in Maverick’s truck.

He and I are working in shifts to keep our sanity. Also to keep the dogs from destroying the rental house. They do not enjoy being cooped up all the time.

And they shouldn’t have to be.

This job fucking sucks.

I bang my head on the steering wheel and turn to eye the clock. Five minutes until the other team takes over.

This job isn’t close contact.

The client is never supposed to lay eyes on me.

Something niggles at my instincts, to the point my leg starts shaking as my foot bounces against the floorboard.

How long does it take to get a coffee?

Especially at seven in the evening.

I’m guessing she’s trying to caffeinate before work.

I followed her from a friend’s house to her apartment, where I waited outside for the better part of three hours this afternoon.

Nothing set off my radar then.

Sighing, I shut off the truck and toss my door open.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I rip it out to see a message letting me know the other team is in position.

Fucking perfect.

Now, I just need to make sure Lennox didn’t sneak out a different exit than the door she went in. Only, when I’m about ten feet from the door, she comes out with a massive iced coffee and a bag of what I would guess are pastries in the other hand.

I keep my head down, staring at my boots. It would be conspicuous as fuck to turn around and head back to the truck without going inside.

My hand catches in the handle, tugging the door to the coffee shop open.

Best of luck to the night team.

They can figure out how to keep track of Lennox without GPS assistance.

It’s a pain in the ass.

The tech team at Assurance Security backs up nearly all our jobs. Merrick runs tech for the company, and even if we happen to lose eyes on a target, he’s always able to follow them remotely.

I’m a cranky fucker under the best of circumstances, but this crowded-ass city isn’t doing anything to help my surly disposition.

The coffee scent hits my nose as I realize I could have lost track of Lennox if she had left through the sidewalk exit, instead of the parking lot entrance she went in through.

I hate New York.

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