Page 144 of Bad Attitude
It’s an almost liberating thought.
Fine… then I’ll do whatever I have to in order to get the result I want, that works for us. Whatever that might be.
I still don’t know what it is. I guess I’ll just… go along with it, for now.
Great plan, Declan.
Genesis Raven fucking Greer.
I knew that girl was trouble from the first day I met her.
Twenty-Eight
Raven
“Cameras are looped,” Tasha’s voice says in my ear. “You’re good to go.”
“Ready?” Cole asks me.
I take a breath, let it out slowly, and give him a nod.
There’s so much that can go wrong with this plan.
Meridian Pacific at nine on a Sunday night is dormant. But that’s a relative statement; it still has security. The guard on the desk is Cole’s job, and mine is to get him close enough.
We head for the doors while the rest hang back, around the corner. Dario, Declan and Kurt… and I’m not very happy with any of them.
Kurt, for springing this on me at five minute’s warning, like I’d have refused if he’d told me sooner.
Dario, for saying I can’t do what Kurt wants me to do.
Declan, for suggesting it’s toodangerous. When he’s all over the place of late, lecturing me one moment, lying through his teeth the next. I know he is, and I don’t know why. I’ve given him every chance…
I kill the thought. It’s a distraction I can’t afford.
Instead, I cling to Cole’s arm and smile up at him, playing the role.
Out of the corner of my eye, Declan clenches his fists. Staring at Cole like he wants to slam him against a wall, like he did to my neighbor.
Then we reach the doors.
They rotate at a slow speed, Cole pushing against them like it would make any difference when they’re clearly automatic. The guard behind the desk is watching us. The lobby’s otherwise empty, expanses of marble floor and a few chairs for waiting guests.
“…then we’ll get a pizza,” Cole says, as we walk in. “But none of your pineapple this time. That’s just evil.”
Whether he intended to or not, he’s picked a good cover argument: I happen to like pineapple on pizza. “What? Pineappleliftsit. That bit of sweetness compliments the spice of the meat.”
“Honey, you’re sweet enough to compliment my meat.” He gives me a grin that would have Declan’s fist in his face if he only knew, even without that line. Which of course he’s heard, courtesy of the open throat mics we’re wearing beneath our jacket collars. The faint growl in my ear proves it.
Cole leans on the reception desk, gesturing at the guard to draw him into the conversation. “Pineappleon pizza? Tell her she’s wrong.”
The guard isn’t interested. “This is a private facility. You’re going to need to leave.”
“Dude, chill. We just came in for directions.” Cole gives him an easy smile. “I need a decent pizzeria for the lady tonight, and I don’t know this areaat all.” He leans in a little. “She gets all happy and willing when she’s fed, if you know what I mean.”
“Fucker.”
Dario’s voice cuts in fast. “Cool it, Declan.”
