Page 23 of Turmoil's Target

Damon’s eyes narrow slightly. “Go on.”

I nod, trying to ignore the way my stomach clenches under his scrutiny. “We’ve been texting every day since then. I’ve been baiting her, you know? Keeping her on the hook.”

In my head, I replay our conversations.

The flirty jokes, the not-so-subtle innuendos.

The way she always takes just a little too long to respond, like she’s weighing her words.

She’s calculating, just like her mother no doubt.

I push down the flicker of unease in my gut. “She’s definitely interested. Wants to meet up again soon. Hell, I’ve seen her a couple of times since last week.”

Damon sits back, considering.

The seconds tick by, tension thickening the smoky air.

Finally, he nods. “Good. That’s very good. Better to play the long game and win than move too quickly and lose our opportunity.”

But there’s a tightness around his eyes that wasn’t there before.

It’s a hint of something I can’t quite read, then again I’m not supposed to be able to read my Prez.

I straighten in my seat, meeting his gaze head-on. “I won’t let you down, Prez. I’ll do whatever it takes to get the information we need.”

The words taste like ash on my tongue, but I mean every one of them.

I’ll play Seraphina like a fiddle if that’s what it takes to protect the club, even if it means diving headfirst into a snake pit.

Damon grunts, a noncommittal sound, then turns his attention to Jolt. “What about you? What’ve you been up to?”

Jolt leans forward, elbows braced on the sticky tabletop. “I was at the club with Turmoil and Seraphina last week. Been working on her friend Rita ever since.”

He flashes a grin, all white teeth and roguish charm. “Laying it on thick, you know? Trying to get her to let her guard down.”

I can’t help but smirk.

Jolt’s always been a smooth talker, able to charm the panties off just about any woman he sets his sights on.

But Rita’s not just any woman.

She’s Seraphina's best friend, her confidante. Her achilles heel, maybe.

“I mentioned we should all hang out again sometime soon,” Jolt continues, leaning back in the booth. “Rita seemed into it. Said she’d talk to Seraphina, see what she thinks.”

Damon nods slowly, processing. “All right. Sounds like you’re both making progress.”

Beside him, Dixon shifts, clearing his throat. “You boys are doing good work. Real good.”

Pride flickers in my chest at the rare praise from our stoic VP.

But it fades as quickly as Dixon’s expression turns grim.

“Thing is,” he says heavily, “Sally Bernard just got her hands on some permits. Wants to start putting up car washes all around Vegas.”

My brow furrows, mind racing.

I remember Dixon mentioning something about this a few weeks back.

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