Page 28 of He Is Jensen: Part One

If I find ICE,I find Layla. It’s a logical conclusion, and the one I’m going with. I leave Sunrise City near ten o’clock, early for Vegas, especially on Friday night, but I need every second possible to find Layla. With a few phone calls to both my street team and various outside contacts, I’ve determined the street pushers were spooked after I took down one of their kind, and ICE has gone underground, dealt through some sort of private club system.

When the words “private” and “money” are involved, I know exactly where to go. By ten-thirty, I’m exiting the elevator inside the Magnolia Casino, one of the biggest moneymakers on the strip, to travel a cushioned, red-carpeted path. I’m expected and welcomed, and end up in the security booth, where a front windowpane overlooks the casino. Computer monitors line walls and hang from the ceiling, providing views from every perspective, which is exactly what I need right now.

In the center of the room stands Alexander Lyons, the head of security for three of the largest casino resort operations on the strip. Tall and athletic with dark hair, he sports the sameblack suit as his staff, but with a blood-red tie that says, Look at me, I’m George-freaking-Clooney. The man is more full of himself than a water balloon, but he’s connected, and that’s what matters—who he knows, and that’s a whole lot of somebodies. The man is king, as far as I’m concerned, if he leads me to Layla. With a lift of his chin, Alexander motions to the office in the back of the booth, and we head that direction. Once inside the room filled with mahogany and leather, Alexander shuts the door.

“What is so urgent?” he asks, referencing my call and my request to see him.

I play a game of dodgeball with these people, none of them quite sure who and what I am, and I continue with that strategy tonight. I do what I have to do to keep the streets clean, but tonight it’s all about Layla. “I have a client who wants a large stock of ICE. He’s willing to pay premium plus. And don’t tell me you don’t know what it is. This is worth too much money to play games. He wants what he wants, and he wants it tonight.”

Alexander studies me several calculating beats. “If I give you this information and you make a contact, I want a piece of the action.”

I smirk. “IfI make a contact?”

“I’ve got a location, and that’s it,” he says. “But it took some serious bullying to get it.” His lips lift as he adds, “I like to be prepared for occasions such as this one. But if you go to this place, opportunity may or may not present itself. But I’ll have someone nearby. Someone watching. I’ll know if you make contact. I’ll expect to be paid.”

“I’ve always paid, and paid well, for information,” I remind him, which is true. The Renegades have deep-pocket funding, in part from Renegades such as Creed and Maddox, who were born with silver spoons. “Why would that change now?”

“What’s your ‘take’ on this deal?” Alexander inquires, a keen look in his blue eyes.

I hesitate intentionally, playing the negotiation game expected of me. Not an easy task when I want to shake Alexander until he tells me what I want to know. “Fifty Gs.”

Alexander arches a brow. “I’ll take thirty.”

I snort and fix Alexander in an “are you whacked?” look. “And the real number is…?”

“We both know you didn’t tell me your full price,” Alexander counters. “You lowered the number. I want thirty, or you get nothing from me.”

I whistle, putting on a show. “That’s steep, you greedy sonofabitch.”

“Not when you’re talking about stockpiling something as hot and impossible to find as ICE. So, take it,” he says, folding his arms in front of his chest, “or leave it.”

“I get the location now. Tonight.”

“I get a retainer now, or no deal,” Alexander counters.

I reach in my pocket and drop a wad of cash secured in a money clip on the desk. “That’s ten. I figured that would be enough to get you one of those fancy manicures you like so much.”

Alexander laughs, noticeably relaxing. “I don’t know who’s a bigger asshole. You or me.”

“I like to think we have our own brand of assholeness,” I say dryly. “You’re the suit-wearing, talk-down-to-you, and then bust-your-wallet-in-the-balls kind of asshole. I’m the dirty-boxing, back-alley kind of asshole. Now, where am I going?”

“When do I get the rest of my money?”

“When I get the ICE.”

Alexander considers me a moment. “Don’t fuck me over, Jensen.”

“Back at you,asshole,” I reply snidely. “You have my ten grand.”

“Nebula,” he says, naming the newest addition to the club scene, located inside a competing casino property, before giving my attire of jeans and a T-shirt a once-over. “You might want to make sure to blend with the crowd. It’s not your typical Vegas hot spot. This place is more leather and chains than denim.”

“And here I thought you might come with me,” I say dryly. I shrug. “Too bad.” The tension between us evaporates. He trusts me. He shouldn’t. I tolerate him to rid this city of the stench he knows all too well. “Later, Alexander,” I say, already at the door.

“Bring us both back some money, Jensen.”

I wave, but I don’t look back. I’m done with him.

I’m going after Layla, who’s smart enough to end up in the location where she finds ICE. Where I find her.

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