Page 28 of F*ck Steal Kill

“Ugh, fine. I’ll seduce the one man who can read me better than I can. Should I go in disguise or as myself?”

“Make it fun. Go in disguise. It might help you stay in character and not give anything away,” Lacey suggested as she stood. She cracked her knuckles, her signature predatory look coming over her face. She was about to go feral on her target from the looks of it. Knowing it was the domestic violence asshole, I didn’t blame her.

Lacey pulled me and Joy up from our chairs and threw her arms around us for a hug. “I love you, bishes,” she whispered before letting go and stomping into her room without looking back. Too much emotion shown for one setting.

Joy kissed me on the cheek, skipping her way to hers and leaving me standing in the living room with a decision to make.

Just who should I be to make Quentin fall to his knees?

* * *

A little while later, I sauntered into the bar on the outskirts of town, my skirt swaying against my legs with each step. It had taken me a bit to track down Matt Donaldson. Thankfully, since he wasn’t actually a killer, he’d been talking all day about his plans, so I only had to ask the right people to find his whereabouts.

Hello, small town gossip chain!

After learning everything I could about Matt Donaldson, I was offended they thought he was us. I mean… the man was a certain height and weight and had a criminal past. But other than that, he had nothing about him that would make me think killer. He was sloppy, loud, and a terrible thief. He’d been caught each time he tried to steal something, never making it away with the goods.

So why had they tagged him, and what were they hoping to gain? Maybe he had ties to the Savages, and they were hoping for a way in. It was the only thing I could remotely think of that would make sense.

Which made this intel gathering even more important. Activate sexy spy!

My red wig was long, the ends tickling my bare back as I continued toward my post. I’d clocked Quentin and Matt the second I’d entered, so I placed myself between them. I had no intention of interacting with their suspect. He was of little use in this game we were playing. The only thing I needed from him was his location, and I had that.

Now it was time to reel in the big fish.

Leaning across the bar, I giggled to get the bartender’s attention, showing off my cleavage while kicking up my legs to flaunt my ass…ets. Would Quentin leave his post to deal with me? My skirt barely covered my bottom, and the shirt was cut low in the front and tied in the back, displaying a lot of skin. Combined with my ankle boots, there was a lot of bare me to take in.

I wouldn’t normally wear this little clothing, but since I had a desired outcome in mind, one where the man in question would jump to my rescue, it seemed like a calculated risk to take.

“Hey, gorgeous,” I purred, my laugh tinkling as I continued to play the part. “What’s a girl gotta do to get a drink?”

The greasy man, who was not, in fact, gorgeous, smiled my way as he left the customer he’d been with to greet me.

“You’re a sight to behold, darling. We don’t get many girls like you in here.”

“Oh, what type of girls do you get?” I asked, twirling a piece of my red hair.

“Harder,” he grunted, “and older.” He licked his lips, his eyes trailing all over me. The urge to punch him was strong, but I had to stay in character.

“What is this place? I heard some guys talking about it, so I thought I’d check it out. But, no offense, it looks just like a bar.”

“Most of the patrons come to try to prove themselves in the fights below.”

My eyes widened involuntarily. In all the time I’d lived here, I never knew illegal fights were a thing. I needed to make sure Lacey didn’t hear about it, or she’d accidentally kill someone in the ring.

“Whoa. That’s so cool,” I gushed.

The guy looked me over again, something in his demeanor changing as he shifted to more concerned instead of predatory. He leaned closer, but it wasn’t to flirt.

“You should leave now. This isn’t the type of place for a pretty thing like you.”

I pouted, sticking out my lip. “But I want a drink. Can’t I have a drink?”

Movement from the corner caught my eye, but I kept my eyes forward, focusing on the bartender. His eyes shifted to my left, and I knew I’d succeeded in capturing my prey. My bait had worked—Q had a thing for redheads.

His heat hit my back, his presence engulfing me as he caged me in, his hot breath skirting over my neck.

“Temptress, you shouldn’t be here,” he growled, the possessiveness and heat bringing goosebumps to my skin.

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