Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Chapter 29
Elena
Brody holds the door open for me as we walk into a sprawling Barnes and Noble out in in the Park West neighborhood.
“Got to admit, you don’t strike me as a literary man,” I tell him and loop my hand through his arm.
He grunts at me. “I like to read.”
“Yeah? Like what?”
“Thrillers. Horror. Stuff like that.”
“You’re just into crime novels.” I nudge him with my elbow. “You like to identify with the main character.”
“Only if the main character is a crooked lawyer.” He gives me a cheeky smile and pulls me down a quiet aisle. It’s the poetry section, and it’s empty as hell. He gently pins me up against the shelves and kisses my neck, his hands on my hips, and slowly moves them up to much more inappropriate areas.
“Cut it out,” I hiss at him, wiggling slightly, trying to get away. “We could get caught. You want that?”
“Maybe,” he says, and one hand teases my breast.
I smack it away. “Then you’ll ruin our meeting.”
“We’ll set another one.” He bites my lower lip. “Come on, baby. Don’t you want me to get you off right here next to copies of The Wasteland?”
“No, and if you can quote me one line from that stupid poem, I’ll take you into the bathroom and give you a blowjob.”
He laughs and puts a hand between my legs. “April is the cruelest month, breeding Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing Memory and desire blah blah blah. Is that enough or should I go on?”
“Okay, now I’m kind of annoyed.”
“I’m a lawyer, baby, I had to read a lot back in school.” He kisses me again and it takes some effort to finally push him away.
I straighten my top and take a deep breath, looking around to make sure nobody noticed that little groping, and fortunately the place is pretty empty for a weekday afternoon. I’m honestly impressed that Brody can quote T. S. Eliot from memory, but I’m not about to actually follow through with that deal.
Maybe at home.
“We have work to do,” I say and swat away his hands when he tries to grab at me again. I skip out of his reach and try not to grin my face off. That man can’t stop himself from touching me all the time and I catch him staring at me sometimes when we’re at home just sitting around doing nothing. When I get changed, when I brush my teeth, when I so much as move a muscle, he’s looking at me, and he always looks hungry.
I love it.
He follows me back into the main atrium, even though he looks unhappy about it, and I lead him over to the cafe. There’s a young guy sitting with a laptop and an old gentleman drinking a coffee and reading what looks like a spicy romance novel, but otherwise the place is deserted. We order drinks and take them to a table in the far corner.
“What are the chances we get stood up?” I look around and check the time. He should be here by now.
“It’s possible, but Captain Kennedy isn’t stupid.” He reaches out and touches my hand. “Relax. It’s okay. We’re in a bookstore in the middle of the day.”
I hadn’t notice that my fingers keep drumming on the table. He’s right though, I have a lot of nervous energy. I feel exposed and nervous, but I need to keep it together, since we’re definitely safe right now. Safe enough, anyway.
“And if he decides that he is stupid? He didn’t seem like your biggest fan.”
“He knows how this goes,” Brody says, his voice getting softer, his expression harder. “He’ll be here.”
And Brody’s right. We don’t have to wait much longer before the captain appears at the edge of the cafe, scowling around until he spots us, and stomps over. The old cop’s wearing jeans, a windbreaker, and a Chicago Cubs hat pulled down low over his face, and I swear I’ve never seen someone look more like a police officer trying to hide in my life. He slumps into the chair next to me, leaning back and crossing his arms, like he’s afraid he’ll catch a communicable disease.
Though he must not realize he’s already got it. The man’s been infected by the Quinn organization the same way all those other cops in his precinct have.
“I’m fucking here,” Captain Kennedy grunts. “Why’d you call?”
“Thank you for joining us,” I say sweetly and he gives me an annoyed look. “How are you, Captain? Everything good?”
“I don’t have a lot of time. Let’s skip the small talk and get to why I’m here.”
Brody’s jaw ticks. “Be nice to my wife, Kennedy.”
The captain looks like he wants to tell Brody to fuck right off, but instead he gives me a pained smile. “I’m doing fine. You’re doing fine. What the fuck do you two want?”