Page 29 of Marked

I nod and casually recite my backstory for tonight. Theresa Lynche, junior developer at Bioceutica, a pharma company that sounds real, but isn’t. It’s a risky move to invent a company for this little charade, but it would have been even more risky to go with an actual firm and possibly run into one of their employees at this table.

People nod along as I speak and—much to my relief—not a single question follows as I conclude my little tale about Theresa, the junior developer who just started at a new firm in town. The group does the same in return, each of them telling me their name and workplace one after another, but I don’t remember a single one.

My pulse speeds up again when it’s Charlie’s turn to introduce himself. He’s the only one in the group who doesn’t state a company name when it comes to his job, but only refers to himself as a freelancer between projects.

“You have been between projects for a while now, buddy!” one of the other guys interjects and the group laughs in response.

The hint of a smile tugs at the corner of Charlie’s mouth and he shrugs as if to apologize.

“Freelancing life,” he says. “Sometimes you have more than you can handle, sometimes it’s just crickets out there.”

Our eyes meet for a brief moment, and it feels like a punch to my stomach. He doesn’t look like a criminal at all. His light blue eyes lack the cunning intensity I have become so accustomed to after being surrounded by it for the past two weeks. He lacks the muscle to be physically intimidating, and his voice is weak and strangely feminine.

I know that he is working for the Covey, a crime syndicate that is responsible for the horrific deaths of Cain’s parents and numerous other crimes. But looking at him now, I still feel sorry for the guy and for what I am about to do to him. He has no idea what’s coming for him, no idea that life as he knows it will be turned upside down tonight. I guess one could say that he had it coming for getting involved with the Covey in the first place.

But other than that, he reminds me too much of myself to not feel sorry for him.

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