Page 7 of Praying Mantis

“Okay, well, let’s book some plane tickets and plan.”

I shut everything off on the stove because this seems to be the most important thing on the menu for tonight. We’ll do takeout tonight and I’ll make Aunt Sue’s Irish Spaghetti another night. Tonight we celebrate Matthew and his win.

I walk into my living room, grab my laptop to book our flights, and get the hotel reservation all done.

Sean

The days I spend shopping with my mother are ones I wish I could stop doing because it feeds my guilt of wanting to avoid her at all costs. I know she cares for me, but I’m tired of her stomping on my career choice. She doesn’t get how my dad treats me for choosing me over the family business. She claims she’s trying to keep the peace, but she’s belittling my military career and diminishing everything I’ve done with the FBI because of him and only him.

Tossing my keys onto the entryway table inside my one-bedroom apartment, I slam the door shut with my boot. The lights automatically come on when I walk into the living room, as I have sensors, which also have a timer on it them I’m not home most of the time. I flop onto my leather L-shaped couch. My head is on the back of the couch while I stare at the ceiling. It’s exhausting being me and sometimes I wish I could just fade away from all of this, but I made a promise to be there for my mom.

Speaking of my mom, right on cue, her ringtone fills the quiet of my space.

“Hello.” I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to control my temper. I just left her not even thirty minutes ago.

“Sean, what time will you be here for dinner?”

“Dinner is at six so it will be about six o’clock.”

“Why don’t you come early to spend time with your dad?” I roll my eyes.

“I’d love nothing more, Mom, but I made plans with some work friends.” It wasn’t a total lie. A bunch of us always head to the gym on Sundays to decompress from the week and start the week out right. I may need to hit the gym after dinner though, to work out the tension or find one of my on-call fuck buddies to see if they’re available for a quick fuck.

“Cancel it. Family is important.” Here we go and the dinner hasn’t even begun yet.

“I’m sorry. I can’t do that to my friends. I’ll be by for dinner, I promise.” She lets out a huff before ending the call. I toss the phone aside onto the couch.

I have a couple of hours before having to meet at the gym, so I decide to dive into the headless hunter case. These names. I heard a few people in the Denver field office when I brought up the killer being a woman dubbing her the Praying Mantis. I hate glorifying these criminals by giving them any kind of media attention. All of my training and instinct is pointing to a female, because how else would a man be this vulnerable to an attack? I look over the files, which I know by heart by now, and still nothing new. I hate having this feeling of dread knowing we need more victims before we can find who is doing this and to catch the motherfucker before the number gets to double digits. My phone alarm goes off, indicating it’s time for me to get ready to head to the gym. It’s a good chance for me to get out of my head.

My friends from work are already doing their various workouts, treadmill, weights, and rowing machines. I nod in their direction before heading into the locker room. As I round the corner, someone bumps into me.

“I’m so sorry,” the voice says.

“My fault wasn’t watching where I was going.” I smile down at her as she stares up at me. She looks so familiar to me. Where have I seen her?

“I was texting and walking. So apparently I can’t do both.” She smiles. “Wait, do I know you?”

“I don’t know. It seems like I’ve seen you before but can’t place it, love.” My Irish accent seems to come out more with her when I let my guard down.

“The farmer’s market today! I was there earlier, and you were with an older lady. She was speaking Gaelic to you.” I don’t remember seeing her at the market today, but we’ll go with that for now.

“I was with my mother. We have our family dinner tonight and she likes her fresh ingredients. God forbid I let her to go to the store.” I smile at the woman and she shares one back with me. “I’m Sean and you are?”

“Nice to meet you, Sean. I’m Louisa, but friends call me Lou.”

“And am I a friend?” I raise an eyebrow at her.

“I don’t know, but if you take me to dinner, sometime soon, you could be.”

“Since you’re on that phone, why don’t you take my number and call me so I have yours? I’ll set up a date for us.” I tell her my number and my phone beeps.

UNKNOWN NAME: You can call me Lou.

She smirks at me. I watch her walk out of the gym with her ass sashaying a little more than normal, I would assume, because she knows I’m watching her. I adjust my hardening cock against the zipper in my jeans before heading into the locker room to change. Louisa is going to be fun.

Louisa

Holy fuck! I never flirt or give out my number. What was I thinking? I don’t know if it’s the wine from earlier with Matthew or the shock of the new client so close to the Denver hit. My handler and I try not to do jobs so close together for fear of the FBI or Interpol finding me.

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