Page 15 of Twisted Revelations

“Laura, where are you going? Leave that man alone. You shouldn’t be wandering off by yourself anyway,” Beverly warned, concerned.

“I’ll be right back,” I announced. I patted Beverly’s hand after giving her a quick hug. “I have heat. Besides, D’s got eyes on me,” I assured her as I approached the front door.

I’d been eyeing the computer like a hawk. D had found a way to hack into the hotel’s cameras. While they assumed I was being an irritating bitch, I was ear and eye hustling my ass off, refusing to be left in the dark about what concerned our lives.

D attempted to call after me, but Beverly, knowing me the way she did, murmured, “Just let her go, D. You do know that telling her he kills people for a living made her more interested, right?”

I grinned at Beverly’s words before I pulled the front door closed behind me. After I entered the code I’d seen Dax punch into the elevator on our way up, I rode it to level five. I took the stairs the rest of the way down to garage level three, parking space 335. I eased up to Dax’s car as he was wheeling one of the hotel’s large food carts toward the back of it. I assumed I was sneaking up on him, but his voice caught me off guard.

“What are you doing here? You need to keep a low profile and stop putting yourself in harm’s way. It’s my duty to keep you safe, and I can’t do that if you’re eager to die anyway,” his voice was low but firm, and precise enough for me to understand every word.

“I’m not eager to die. I would like to help,” I replied honestly. “My soul is restless. A lot in my life is messed up: bad decisions, stupid mistakes, but there is one thing I’ve always done, which is fight for myself and those I care about.”

Dax paused to consider my words before he shrugged and popped the trunk of his BMW. Who in the hell went around rescuing people in a hundred-thousand-dollar car?

The value of Dax’s car went up in smoke, and my lips fell apart at the sight of the man that was stuffed inside his trunk.

“While you were tempting your fate, I was ensuring we at least had our next lead,” he uttered, his voice monotone.

“Well, damn, Richie Rich!” I exclaimed, shaking my head as I glared at the man he’d stuffed into the trunk of his expensive car. I glanced around, searching for cameras.

“Don’t worry, I’ve already visited the surveillance room, and D has this level on blackout for now,” he updated.

Dax was not your average killer. He’d taken this man from a guarded warehouse, secured him in the trunk, and had weaved his way through an army of killers to find me. I owed him more respect than I’d given, but I was too arrogant and hard-headed to release it.

“So, what’s the plan, Richie Rich? Are we about to find out about this DG6 original or what?” I questioned, loving how he fought not to cringe each time I called him that nickname. “You plan on beating the information we need out of him?” I continued, pointing at the man who was sleeping like a fat, well-fed baby.

“We?” His brow arched high while glaring at me.

“That’s what I said. Are you hard of hearing?” My abrasive tone didn’t bother him as much as I’d assumed. It irritated him, but for the most part, when I was being flippant, he brushed it off and moved on to his next thought.

“How do you know about the original? Did D tell you?” His paused expression didn’t reveal a thing.

“I’ve been picking up the information you and D have been keeping from us. I can read between the lines better than you think. I know you intend to take out an original member of this cartel. Someone they call No Face. Your logic is to take out a leader, hoping the hit they have on us might disappear.”

He maintained a poker face, but I’d saw a hint of something I couldn’t identify flash before he turned his attention to the man in the trunk. He leaned in, shuffling the man’s body around until his forearms were under his shoulders.

“Instead of watching, why don’t you make yourself useful and grab his feet,” He ordered, trying to be the boss of me. His face was darkened by the shadows cast by the raised hood, but I could spot the smugness there.

My arms folded across my chest, and I stiffened my stance, mainly to get on his nerves further. A deep scowl etched his forehead before a weak, “Please,” squeezed past his lips. He was learning my personality far faster than I’d expected.

I get on his nerves, but he’s letting me help though. A devious smirk followed my thought.

I gripped the man’s feet and grunted as I lifted my portion of his weight. With the food cart turned sideways, we made quick work of stuffing the man into it. When shoving with my hands didn’t work, I kicked his leg into the cart.

Dax stood shaking his head at me with a grimace on his face. If he didn’t know it before, he knew it now: my ass was plum crazy. We were dealing with a cartel, so I’d say a certain amount of crazy was necessary.

Dax secured his car and turned the cart upright, causing the man’s body to thump as it shifted. What kind of drugs had the man been given? He didn’t exhibit any signs of waking up.

The thought caused me to think about my blunt Dax had thrown out his window. He probably assumed I was a pothead, but smoking a black or a blunt every once in a while helped me think, especially when the world was closing in on me.

The wheels of the cart squeaked an annoying elongated yell as Dax pushed it. I walked along the side of the area that opened to our cargo with my lips poked out, whistling.

Dax’s abrupt halt caused me to stop and the body inside the cart to shift once more. “The Whistle Song at a time like this? Nice,” he mumbled under his breath, shaking his head at me before he restarted the cart.

The fact he knew what song I was whistling had revealed more about him. Maybe that stick wasn’t as far up his ass as I’d originally assumed. He was rich, dangerous, and apparently, hiding a personality.

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