Page 45 of F*ck Steal Kill

“Private security? Like you’re bodyguards?” I asked curiously, hoping to gain as much information as they would give me. Had to hand it to them; they were good. They gave me just enough truth that it sounded reasonable. But I was better and knew more than they were aware of.

“Sometimes. Though we mostly work on location and retrieval cases.”

That piqued my interest. My eyes lifted, thoughts coursing through my head.

“Whoa, that sounds really cool. Do you have cool spy gadgets?” I asked playfully.

Max shook his head, relaxing that I seemed to accept what he’d said. “Not like you see in movies.”

“So, are you here to find someone?” I asked, wanting to hear how they would spin this bit.

“Is that really what you want to talk about, Temptress?” Quentin asked, leaning down to kiss my neck, his tongue sweeping out along my throat. And there’s the misdirection, the change of subject.

“Um, yes,” I said, barely containing the moan. I shifted, making him groan as I brushed against his erection. “We’re supposed to get to know one another. You guys already know what I do; it’s only fair.”

“Our job is boring. I’m usually stuck here while Q and Grady are out looking for our missing person.”

“Missing? So, like they’ve been kidnapped?” Max’s face flushed, his words stumbling as he realized what he’d let slip. I hated using him like this, but he was clearly the easiest of the three to gather intel from with his too-trusting eyes.

“Enough for now,” Quentin demanded, stepping in. “When do you get off?”

“Five. Then Lacey, Joy, and I go out for drinks.”

“Skip it tonight. Meet us for dinner instead,” Quentin commanded.

The brat in me wanted to push him, but I knew when to pick my battles, and if I wanted to make it on time for my shift, I couldn’t push buttons right then.

“Will there be dessert?” I asked, tapping my lips like I was thinking about it.

“The best kind,” he whispered into my ear and licked it, not hiding what he meant by that at all.

I cleared my throat, fighting the urge to fan myself. I didn’t need to give him any more ammo.

“Fine, but I have to change afterward, so text me where and I’ll meet you there at 7 pm.”

“Plan to stay here,” he said, standing and spinning me in his arms. His lips crashed down on mine before I could respond, stealing my words as he devoured me. When my breath was officially gone, he pulled back and turned me to Max. My steps were wobbly as I attempted to regain oxygen.

Max pulled me gently into his arms, kissing my nose first, then my cheeks, before landing on my lips. This guy was almost too cute for words. I felt terrible for half a second for all the corruption I planned, but he was a grown man. He made his own decisions; I hadn’t pushed him into this.

“Right. I’ll see you guys later.”

I waved, trying to regain some of my power as I left. I knew I couldn’t walk away from them yet, I only hoped I wouldn’t be the one to get burned in the end. Because there would be an end, and I prayed I was on the winning side.

But they didn’t call this town Foolshope for no reason, and I was afraid I was about to be hope’s fool.

* * *

The day flew by for once, and the three of us moved from room to room in a united precision, our minds on the latest message we’d gotten from our hopeless savage.

“You sure you don’t want to tell them?” Joy asked for the third time.

“No. I can’t. Not yet. Grady doesn’t like me and is highly suspicious. I’m not sure he wouldn’t turn us all in. I can’t risk that. So, for now, I’m just Holland, the crappy maid.” I gritted my teeth, his words cutting me to my core.

I’d once had a bright future and a plan to leave this town. The first time my dream was stolen from me was the summer before college, and my dad lost his job again. We’d never been rich, but my dad made decent money as a truck driver when he worked, and it provided us with enough to pay the rent on our crappy two-bedroom apartment and afford food from the clearance aisle.

But as usual, his drunkenness would catch up to him, and he’d fall off the wagon and get fired, losing our only source of reliable income and health insurance. The health insurance hit the hardest—especially for my little sister.

So, I stayed close to home to work a crappy job to help support my family, still believing I could make something of my life if I worked hard enough.

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