Page 24 of Little Bird (Advantage Play 3)

“Honestly? When you opened the door to my room that first night I was brought here, I thought you were him coming to save me. After I realized you weren’t Diece, I convinced myself that I was still drugged up, and the similarities were minimal, but”—she tilts her head and looks me up and down—“yup. You guys are definitely related.”

I nod while a low hum of anxiety pulses through me.

“Good to know. Hopefully, it’ll give me a few more minutes with him before he pulls the trigger.”

“Don’t talk like that,” she scolds, her forehead wrinkling.

“Sorry,” I mutter, though I don’t take it back.

“Are you going now?” she adds, still sitting cross-legged on the floor. I offer my hand, then pull her up and lean forward for a kiss goodbye. I think I’m needing it more than her, but she doesn’t hesitate in returning it.

Stepping away, I slip the note into my back pocket and turn on my heel. “I’ll be back soon. Be safe.”

“I will. Be safe, too. Please.”

Tossing a wink over my shoulder, I add, “Always, darlin’.”

Chapter Seventeen

Dex

The place is as sketchy as I remember it. Same chain link fence that’s been cut in a few places, same worn asphalt that needs to be replaced, same cracked sidewalks and graffitied walls. The fact that Ace lived here––by herself––baffles me.

Scanning the parking lot, I find the man I’m looking for and walk over to him.

“Hey.” I lift my chin in greeting.

The homeless guy looks up at me in a daze before fumbling in his wool blankets.

“You’re the guy. The guy I was supposed ta watch out for. What are ya doin’ here, anyway? You’re not supposed ta be here. Why are you here? And where’s that damn card? He told me ta keep track of it and call if ya showed up, and y-you’re right here,” he continues mumbling under his breath in search of the card that I assume has Diece’s contact information on it.

I crouch in front of him and start helping in his quest, breathing through my mouth when the stench of alcohol and bad breath wafts through the air.

When I find it tucked next to a bottle of bourbon, I pick the business card up and hand it to a very intoxicated old guy that I feel sorry for.

“Here. Is this what you’re looking for?” I ask.

He squints his eyes to take a closer look. “Yeah. I think that’s it. But why…why are ya helpin’ me?”

“Because I need you to do something for me.”

Fiddling with the business card in his hands, he wrinkles his nose. “And what’s that? I don’t think we like ya—”

“We?”

“Ace and me. She and that big man told me ta keep an eye out for ya. They told me ta call if ya showed back up. You really do look like him, ya know—”

“Yeah. That’s what I’ve heard. Listen”—I pull out a burner phone then hand it to him—“I need you to call him and tell him I stopped by. I need you to tell him that I gave you a letter from Regina. Do you think you can do that?”

He cocks his head to the side, looking confused as hell. “Regina?”

“Yeah. Can you do that?” I repeat, eyeing him warily. He’s drunk off his ass.

Waving me off, he mutters, “Yeah, yeah, of course. Let me sober up a bit first, though. Ace don’t like it when I drink.”

With pity shining in my eyes, I push the phone into his hand and cover it with my own to make sure he’s got a good grip. “I’m going to need you to call him right now. It’s to keep Ace safe, understand?”

His gaze clears almost instantly, sensing the gravity of the situation. Nodding his understanding, he attempts to dial the phone number printed on the business card. After his third attempt, I grab the phone and press the correct combination then hand it back to him. “Here.”

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