Page 60 of Prodigal Son

So, head held high though it throbbed like a beating drum, she walked over to his booth and slid in across from him.

“Morning,” he greeted without taking his eyes from the paper. He reached for his coffee and sipped it.

Axelledid notnotice the way his lips fit against the ceramic of the mug. “Morning.”

He finally lifted his head and made brief, inscrutable eye contact. He waved at the prospect, who put his phone away and slouched toward the kitchen.

She refused to look away, even though she wanted to. His gaze was weighty, bright as polished glass in the scant amount of sunlight that filtered into the pub.Here it comes, she thought. A grin, a joke, a jab about her looking like shit. No amount of concealer on earth could have hidden the dark smudges beneath her eyes.

But what he said was, “You like eggs?”

She felt her brows lift, surprised, and forced them down. “Doesn’t everyone?”

“My little sister doesn’t. Then again, they make her sick. When she was really little, we just thought she was being picky. But we figured out that she cried and cried afterward. She finally got old enough to tell us they hurt her stomach.” He shrugged. “Just checking. You never know.”

“Eggs are fine.”

The prospect arrived at their table and set a plate and mug before her, a roll of silverware in a paper napkin. Coffee, eggs, bacon, and toast. Her stomach growled.

“Thanks.”

The prospect nodded and retreated.

“This is like a Waffle House,” she said, reaching for the pepper shaker on the table. “How’d you know I was coming down?”

He shook his head and returned his attention to his paper. “The kitchen’s always running. Especially at proper meal and tea times. Usually, someone’s got something on the flattop.” He added, “Also, I talked to Phil. Raven’s on the way.”

She knew a momentary twinge of disappointment, and pushed it aside. “Right. Time to be the good little assistant again.” She took a bite of eggs that proved to be cooked to perfection, with a detectable splash of heavy cream and pinch of something spicy, maybe cayenne.

Albie lifted his head again, and this time he was serious, no misunderstanding. He set the paper aside and rested both arms on the table.

She paused, fork suspended over her plate. “What?”

“You need to be very careful today.”

She sighed. “Haven’t we already had this conversation?”

“We’re having it again. This bloke Raven’s meeting today: I don’t trust him.”

“I think the list of people you do trust would be shorter. Look, we’ve talked about this. Raven’s getting you intel, I’m backing her up, what’s with the constant lectures? We’ve already established that I’ve got literally nothing to lose.”

His lips compressed, nostrils flaring as he took a breath. “Yeah, well, think that if you want.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You think you’re badass – and you are, alright? I can admit that. But what we’re dealing with here is big government and big money. These people are so rich…these are the guys who have people disappeared and no one ever finds the body. This isn’t some back alley, sloppy drug dealer shit. This is avery big deal.”

“So your brother’s told me.I get it.”

They stared at one another; glaring, on his part. Axelle had no idea why he was so hellbent on repeating himself.

He finally sighed and looked away, reached for his coffee. “You’re taking a security detail,” he said with an air of finality. “That’s non-negotiable.”

~*~

“Absolutely not,” Raven said, arms folded, hips cocked at a dangerous angle. She wore all black head-to-toe, hair pulled back in a slicked-down, severe bun. She looked absolutely lethal, right down to her spike heels. Albie was grateful not to be the brother she was squared off against, even if he agreed with Phillip’s insistence on this particular matter.

“Phil,” she said, “the reason I went yesterday to see Ryan Anders, and now have a meeting with an important person relating to this case, is because I’m in the fashion business. I didn’t kick down any doors, or flex any muscles, or flash all my ghastly leather biker patches – of which I have none, thank Jesus.”

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