Page 62 of Off Her Game
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Tori reviewed her preparations in her mind as she descended into the basement of the commercial high rise in Queens that served as the Stadium tonight. After what happened to Emma, she wasn’t taking chances. She’d backed up her bank records, credit from four different credit rating agencies, printed out her credit card transactions for three years, and printed out her criminal record, which was all misdemeanors or dropped charges. She’d saved them on a flash drive and given it to Quan before she left. He’d been pissed, but understood without being told.
She’d forgotten to copy school records and medical records. Damn it. She was tempted to return home, do it, and then be late.
A hulking man in dark camos and a long-sleeved dark shirt stopped her and the guy who’d been a few yards ahead of her. “No coats or jackets today. New security protocol. Check them and then get frisked. No weapons inside.”
She resented the leer that crossed the security guard’s face when his eyes dropped down her body. As soon as she’d checked her coat the guy was reaching in to frisk her.
Her eyes narrowed. “This isn’t a green light for you to feel me up. One finger in the wrong spot on purpose and I’ll make you a eunuch.”
Her frisk did get a bit too personal when he stuck his hand into her front jeans pocket to remove the zip drive.
She said, “Call Rand. Tell him it’s Selene and I’ve brought what he wants. It’s on that drive.”
The guy texted on his cell. Moments later he handed back the zip drive without a word and chin nodded her inside.
The atmosphere of the Stadium was different tonight. It wasBattlefield Westnight, which was always exciting. In legitimate competitions it drew some of the most talented gamers. Here, she couldn’t predict who’d show up. The gambling was fierce in the minutes leading up to start time. This was how she’d gotten into trouble a few months ago.
She fingered the zip drive in her pocket and realized the FBI button had been in her coat. Guess she really was flying solo tonight.
“Where’s Rand?” she asked a guy she recognized vaguely from years of non-illegal gaming.
The guy pulled the ear buds of his headphones out. “What?”
“Seen Rand?”
“He’s around.” Headphones went back on as he continued his pre-game prep.
She rounded the first row of computer tables and almost smacked into the fifteen-year-old from the other night. “You seen Rand?”
“Heard you were dating Noah Harrison.” He whistled.
“My personal life has nothing to do with here. Seen Rand?” She ignored his obnoxious boob scan.
“Check the pizza table. I hear we’re on a team tonight again. Guess they liked my style of play. Made it to thirty-four the other day.” He flashed a nasty grin.
“Guess you’re the man,” she said sarcastically. “Gotta chat with the boss man for a few. Later.” She scooted away.
Bingo on Rand at the food table. Rand shoved an entire slice of pepperoni into his mouth while jabbering to some guy about his new sound system. Without any hint of a conversation detour he passed a packet of two small pills to the listener.
“It’ll give you a boost tonight. Take it now. Works for about two hours.”
She waited for the other guy to move away before stepping into Rand’s space. “Got a minute?”
“Want a piece?” Rand extended a slice of pepperoni her way. Zits in various stages dotted his forehead, made prominent by his tight ponytail.
“I already ate. Thanks.”
“You on your game today?” Warning reflected in his gaze.
She handed him the flash drive.
He slowly put down his pizza and rolled the drive between his fingers. “All of it?”
“I got code for the first three levels. Cost me a lot for this. Way more than a blowjob.”
His demeanor shifted as if someone ran over his favorite dog. He snarled, “The first three levels? That’s not what he asked for. We want the complete code. What the hell good is a few levels?”
