Page 53 of Mayfly

Issak sighs, “Just listen, and make sure whomever you took to bed last night doesn’t hear.”

“They’ve already left.”

“Delightful… You need to get to Silvertown station. Make sure the driver drops you off at least two stations before, then take the tube the rest of the way. That's nonnegotiable.”

Grunting into the phone, I let him know I heard, but also that I’m not happy about it. “Who the fuck booked this hotel, anyway?”

“I did—” Issak inhales sharply like people do when they let something slip out when they weren’t supposed to. “Is it not up to your standards?”

“How long has the job been at Silvertown?”

“How about I get someone else for the next high-profile meetup?”

“Fine by me.”

“You don’t sound like your usual people-pleasing self.”

“What gave it away?” I balance my phone on my cheek and stretch out my arms.

“There are literally thousands of people who would kill for your job.”

“Forward me the list and I’ll help you narrow down the candidates.”

“What’s gotten into you?”

“You’re wasting the precious little time I have left.”

“Do you plan on answering any of my questions?”

“Did Anders approve this job?”

Switching the call to the loudspeaker, I lay my phone on the bedside table and flick on the lamp. With Issak rambling about my multiple levels of insolence, I tense all my muscles in turn—highlighting every single bruise and tear that spans my body. Rolling onto my back, I stretch out my arms and legs. My ankles and wrists crack as I rotate them, and so do my hips when I sit up.

As I walk to the door, I hum like I’m actually listening, and turn on the lights. The room feels empty, and all signs of Curren are gone, apart from the smell of him still clinging to me.

“Are you gonna tell me what I missed in the email?” I cut Issak off.

“Are you going to show me some fucking respect?”

“When you’ve earned it. And right now, you need me. So unless you feel like taking the trip to East London yourself, Isuggest you forward the fucking details so I can wash the smell of sex off me before actually getting my hands dirty.”

“You need to go in calm. This is bigger than you realize.”

“For the love of Christ, I know how to do my job. Just tell me what I need to know, then fuck off till it’s done.”

“Do you have a pen?” I can hear his tension through the speaker.

I quickstep to the desk. “Just tell me.”

“There’s a locker at Silvertown station. The code is—”

“What’s in the locker?”

“Things you’ll need.”

“What things?”

“Jude!”

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