Page 58 of Ravage
He must be crazy.
Kit lets me sit in silence for all of thirty seconds before he bounces back to his feet. “I’m surprised you’re here so early, though. I knew you were coming, but I figured you’d try to get some more sleep first. You must care about Portia a lot that you came straight here after. That’s really sweet. I like you.” He’s talking a mile a minute with chihuahua energy, and I just stare blankly at him.
“Um. Yeah.” I stand too. “Sorry to have wasted your time since you already know everything.”
“No worries at all. You had to come. Since you didn’t know I knew. Oh, and I have to give you something.” He digs into his cargo pockets, working through different ones until he pulls a slip of paper out with some chicken-scratch writing on it. “Eli asked me to give you this information. Said it was your next lead. This guy is going to be at that address next Friday. He said you should look into him.”
I take the piece of paper from Kit and memorize it just in case, then shove it in my pocket. “Thanks. I’m going to assume this nugget of information came from the Seer as well?”
Kit laughs and leads me back to the door. “Something like that.”
I’m not sure what that means, but I don’t push for more. He’s stretching and yawning so wide he could catch butterflies, and I instantly feel bad for coming over so early in the morning.
I step out his door and turn to look one last time over my shoulder. “Thanks again. And sorry for the early morning visit.”
“No problem at all, Raegan of Ruin.”
“Don’t call me that,” I growl.
He smirks and closes the door.
Chapter sixteen
Raegan
I spend the next couple of days at the library researching the man on the paper from Elias via Kit. Turns out he’s a congressman, which is lucky for me because the internet is bursting with information about him.
A man in his fifties, been in the government for half of his life, and well-liked by his constituents. I had to Google that word; I’m not gonna lie. Government and the legal system were not something we went into great detail in understanding on the island. And the streets didn’t teach it either.
His wife passed away from cancer seven years ago, and he’s been somewhat of a popular bachelor since. He was even named sexiest man of the year by his state last year, which is apparently a thing. For every party and event he attends, he has a different girl on his arm. The standard seems to be young, blonde, and pretty.
He crossed the underage line at least once and was called out on it in a scandal four years ago. Seems he’s been more careful since then, and he’s played it off as helping law and political science students experience work and life as a congressman in a short-term work study. It explains why he rotates through the women so quickly and why they’re all so young.
The rest…either the people like him enough to turn a blind eye, or he’s got good support to keep his name from being smeared in the media.
Which probably brings this all back to Gifted Enterprise.
I knew that they must have had ties to the government to keep all of their experiments under wraps and out of any red tape, but seeing it still leaves a bad taste in my mouth.
After the third day of staring blearily at the computer screen—seriously, I don’t know how people can stare at a screen every day—I’ve got Congressman Joe all figured out.
It helps that he’s had enough interviews stored on the internet for literally anyone to access that I know everything from his address and general schedule to his likes and dislikes.
Including the party happening this Friday at the city mayor’s house on the beach. It’s his annual end of summer bash that’s open to the public. Security will be tight, I’m sure, but it also means that among the hundreds of guests that usually appear, I will easily blend in.
Now all I need is a flowery, summer dress and a backstory.
“So, what are you studying at school?”
A brown-haired, brown-eyed guest, who I’ve guessed is in his thirties, takes his place at my side as I stare out at the ocean. My heels are gone, lost somewhere at the base of the deck so my feet could sink into the warm reserves of the sand for what’s left of the sun’s heat now that it’s slipped below the horizon.
There’s a dusky glow over the water still. I love watching the transition to night as the light inevitably gives in and sinks into the blanket of darkness.
I blink to break myself free of the trance I’d been in. I bring the champagne flute filled with some fruity thing or other to my lips, and I set my gaze over the rim to finally give full attention to the guest who’s been almost constantly in my shadow since I arrived.
At first, I’d given in to his attentions and flirted back to keep up appearances that I knew someone here and fit in. But this is the fourth time he’s sought me out to restart our conversation after I’d excused myself.
He’s keeping me away from the congressman. I can’t let this entire afternoon be in vain when Elias specifically mentioned this day. There’s still the rest of the night to go, but the hours of pretending to fit in here are already taking a toll on me.
