Page 63 of Marked

“Thanks.” I snatch it from her and hurry out of the room, letting the door swing closed behind me.

I take in a deep breath as I hurry back to the booth where Zack is glaring at me.

“More than two minutes.” He taps his watch.

I dive into the booth and slide up to him.

“Agent Laurens is here,” I blurt out. “And Vince and her were talking in the hallway, so I couldn’t get out of the bathroom. But then when they were done, she came in the bathroom.”

I spill everything I heard them say.

“And when she came in, she picked up my phone and gave it to me. Zack, she looked right at me.”

His attention snaps to the bathrooms. Agent Laurens is just stepping back into the bar. She keeps to the perimeter on the other side and goes straight for the exit.

“Did she not recognize me?” I grab his arm. “Is she just fucking with us?”

Zack wraps his hand calmly around mine, pulls it off his forearm, and brings it to his lips. He kisses the inside of my palm.

“She didn’t recognize you because of your hair. You went from blonde to red, and she wasn’t expecting to see you here. So, don’t worry about her. It sounds like she has other worries at the moment.”

I nod, take a deep breath, and sink back against the leather seat.

“Right.” He’s right. If she had recognized me, she wouldn’t have let me leave the bathroom. “I’m glad I went with this color then.”

“It’s the perfect color for you,” he says and kisses me. “Now, slower this time, tell me again what they said about the product.”

I go over it again.

“I think he means people,” I say. “I remember when…I remember Vince coming in one time. He said he was coming to sample the product.” I squeeze my hand closed, digging my fingernails into my palms. “And he said a name. Jackie. So I think he’s talking about people. Maybe more girls?”

Zack’s features darken, and I see the beast in him slowly emerge. He downs the rest of his beer and snatches my hand, pulling me out of the booth with him.

“We need to get to them before he does.”

I look, but I find no traces of anything like what Harley described to me. No one connected to Arthur owns a warehouse or a workshop or mechanic’s shop. Nothing that would have the oil and gasoline smells she remembers.

“I’m sorry I don’t remember,” Harley says quietly from the passenger seat in my car. We’ve been sitting in it for the past hour, waiting for Vince to come out to his own car.

It’s midnight. The bar’s open for another two hours, but he won’t stay that long. Most of the assholes he was sitting with have already left.

“It’s not your fault.” I squeeze her knee, so she knows I mean it. “I’m sure Vince will be all too happy to show us the way.” I cut my eyes to a figure walking toward us on the sidewalk.

His car, parked behind us, beeps, and the front lights flicker as he unlocks his Challenger. Other than him, the street is empty. He shouldn’t have parked a full block away from the bar, but he’s probably not expecting anyone to hold his ass accountable for any of the evil shit he’s done.

“Wait here,” I tell her as I open the middle console and pull out the syringe I prepped for tonight’s clubbing adventure.

She gives a little nod, so I know she heard me, and she sinks lower in her seat to keep him from seeing her.

This man hurt her, and he’s going to fucking pay a dear price for it. But first, we need information. So, he’s not going to get his full punishment yet.

Steeling my anger, I quietly get out of the car as he approaches. He’s got his head down, swiping through his phone while humming to himself.

Fuck, this asshole’s oblivious.

I wait until he walks past my car before rushing him from behind.

His phone flies. I’ll get it later. He screams from the surprise. The prick had no idea he wasn’t alone on the street.

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