by Jessica Ashe
Men were already eying her up, and she’d noticed. The more eyes on her, the more uncomfortable she became. Did she not normally dress this way? If not, why had she tonight?
Oh God, please don’t say she’s hoping to hook up with me. That can’t happen. Not with an assistant. Not after Kara. But she is beautiful. I can’t take my eyes off her.
“Hi,” she said with a smile. I couldn’t actually hear her, but you didn’t have to be a genius at lip-reading to figure it out.
I smiled back and told her to follow me. I pushed my way through the crowd creating a gap for her to walk through, but then turned back when I noticed she had stopped following me.
I retraced my steps until I found her with trying to politely reject a man who wouldn’t get out of her way. He looked absolutely wasted, but had a friend with him who looked relatively sober and had the decency to look embarrassed by his friend’s behavior.
“Go. Now,” I said to the man in Chloe’s way. We were further away from the speakers now, so he could hear my message and even if he couldn’t, my body language made it perfectly clear.
“Come on, Sam,” the man’s friend said, trying to pull him away by the arm. The friend looked suitably scared of me, but Sam must have been off his tits because he wasn’t frightened. You’d have to be drunk, drugged up, or just stupid not to be scared of me when I’m angry. And now I was angry.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Sam responded.
I didn’t particularly want to destroy someone in the middle of my own nightclub, but he had three seconds to walk away or that was exactly what would happen.
“Sam, let’s leave,” the friend pleaded.
“I’m just offering to buy her a drink,” Sam replied.
“Don’t you know who that is? Let’s go.”
Sam turned to have a proper look at me. He didn’t recognize me, but he did quickly figure out that I was not someone he wanted to have a fight with.
Thre--
“Okay,” Sam said, holding up his hands. “Christ, I just wanted to talk.”
“You okay?” I asked as the two of them walked away.
Chloe nodded and smiled, but I could see she was a little shaken up. She wasn’t used to being hit on, which seemed remarkable given how stunning she looked tonight.
Chloe took a seat in the VIP section, while I had a quick word with a few of the security guys.
“You see those two over there?” I asked, pointing out Sam and his friend, who were now looking around for their next target. Wallace nodded. “Get them out of here. If the one in the blue shirt accidentally trips and falls on the concrete then no harm, no foul.”
“Got it boss.”
Wallace walked off, and I ordered some drinks to be delivered to the table which arrived promptly after.
“Vodka tonic okay?” I asked. I’d ordered Kara’s favorite drink without even thinking about it. I probably looked like one of those assholes who ordered food for the lady in a restaurant without even asking.
“I shouldn’t be drinking,” Chloe replied. “I’m technically working.”
“One drink won’t hurt.”
Chloe took the drink reluctantly and sipped at it. I saw her wince as she tasted it.
“You don’t like it, do you?” I asked.
“No, sorry. I can’t stand vodka.”
I laughed. “You can just tell me if you don’t like something.”
“I didn’t want to seem rude.”
How could a girl who was fairly blasé towards violence, not have the confidence to tell me she doesn’t like to drink vodka?
I called a barman back over and Chloe ordered a white wine. I tried to warn her that the wine wasn’t exactly of the best quality here, but she didn’t seem to mind.
She drunk half the glass surprisingly quickly; she must be nervous. I turned the conversation to business.
“Do you know why we’re here tonight?” I asked.
“You’re keeping an eye on the business?” Chloe guessed.
“Not really, although I do that while I’m here as well. The real point is to be seen in public and give people the opportunity to talk to me with a degree of privacy. Some customers use it as a time to pay off debts.”
“Why don’t they just make an appointment with your office?”
I smiled. “Let’s just say that some of my customers look a bit too undressed to appear in the office. Many of them are too undressed for a nightclub as well to be honest. I’m here every Tuesday night, so my clients know where they can find me. I am expecting some of those clients tonight.”
“Okay. Oh, hang on a second.” Chloe picked up her purse and pulled out a small notebook and a pen.
I watched curiously as she wrote the time, date, and location at the top of the first page.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Taking notes,” she replied innocently.
“Chloe?”
“Yes?”
“Put the pen and paper away.”
“I have an awful memory,” she responded.
“That’s fine. In fact, I’d rather you forgot these meetings. I certainly don’t want you writing them down.”
“Oh. Oohhhh,” she said again, as the realization finally hit.
A cute grin spread across her face. I was grateful for it. She looked completely different--and not at all like Kara--when she smiled.
“Like I said before, discretion is important. You okay with that?”
Chloe nodded vigorously. “How you run your business is none of my… business.”
“I wouldn’t go that far, but that’s the gist of it.”
I’d instructed Perry to come by in about fifteen minutes time. We had a piece of business to conduct, but in the meantime I could just relax with Chloe.
I found it surprisingly easy to talk with her, and I didn’t think it had anything to do with her resemblance to Kara. Her voice and mannerisms were different, so the more we talked the more I began to distinguish between the two of them. And the more I liked her.
“You must be very proud of what your dad has achieved,” Chloe remarked. “He’s got his fingers in so many different pies.”
“Yeah, sure. How’re you getting on living in Chicago?” I asked, quickly changing the subject. The last thing I wanted to talk about was Dad. Just the mention of him made me think about the last time he sent me out on a collection. I’d nearly killed the victim. He’d never asked me to kill anyone--not yet--but I sensed that moment getting closer. Soon I’d have to end someone’s life. The only person I wanted to kill was Roddy Barton. He had it coming to him.
“It’s cheaper,” Chloe replied. “I like my apartment. I had to share an apartment with three other people in New York and could still barely make the rent. Although I suppose it’s been awhile since you’ve had to worry about things like that.”
“Money’s never been a huge issue,” I admitted. “But money can’t buy you everything.” If it could, Kara would be here now.
“People who have it always say that.”
“Fair point.”
Perry appeared in my peripheral vision and motioned that he was ready to talk. Chloe’s test was about to begin.
“I have to go meet someone,” I said. Chloe went to stand up, but I motioned for her to stay seated. “You stay here. I shouldn’t be long. The staff will look after you. There’s a private bathroom just down the end of the hall there. Wallace will let you through. Don’t want to have to mix with the riff-raff.”
“Okay,” Chloe said, as she pulled her phone out of her purse.
What did we do before we had smartphones to keep us amused when we were bored?
I’d arranged it so that Chloe would need to walk past my office door when she needed to use the bathroom. The door would be ajar and she’d see what Perry and I were working on.
“Come on through,” I said to Perry as he met me by my office. “How’s Barb?”
“She’s fine,” Perry replied.
“And the
kids?”
“The kids are… kids. They’re a fucking nightmare to be honest, but you have to love ‘em regardless don’t you.”
“So I hear.”
An awkward silence fell between us. We both knew what had to happen now, and neither of us was looking forward to it.
“Don’t worry, Denton,” Perry said. “It’s just business. I don’t take it personally. You’re doing me a huge favor by letting me off this debt. If I have to take a beating for it then so be it.”
“My dad never should have loaned you that money when you were in that state.”
“That money helped pay for Barb’s treatment. It was worth every punch you’re going to throw.”
“I hope so. I don’t like hitting friends. I need you to send a couple of swings my way too. I want to look a bit worse for wear after this one.”
Perry smiled. “Trying to impress a girl, eh? There are other ways to impress women you know. Some men buy flowers.”
“I’m not trying to impress her. I just want to leave an impression on her.”
“That’s the same fucking thing.”
“Whatever.”
“Okay, let’s do this.” Perry bounced from foot to foot and shook his head from side to side to loosen up.
“Not yet,” I said, looking at the security camera footage on the monitors. Chloe was still playing with her phone. She’d nearly finished her wine--any minute now she’d get up for the bathroom.
Sure enough, five minutes later she stood up and headed in this direction.
“Let’s go,” I said, before swinging my right hand and punching Perry in the face.
Chapter Five
Chloe
My phone couldn’t stop me getting bored within about five minutes. I couldn’t use my real smartphone on the off chance that Denton saw me using accounts with my real name.
The Bureau had gone to great lengths to engineer a fake set of social profiles, so it looked like I used all the apps someone of my age would use, and I even had a full set of “friends.” They weren’t much use now, though.
I knocked the wine back quicker than I would usually, but I was rather nervous. Either it was hot in here or I was just panicking, because my face started to feel flushed and the back of my neck was a little clammy.
I headed to the bathroom to freshen up, but I stopped dead in my tracks when I heard a man scream and fall to the ground. I rushed towards the noise to help, assuming a member of staff had fallen over, but stopped short when I saw the sign on the door. 'Manager’s office.'
Denton must be in there. I should just keep moving; head to the bathroom and remain unnoticed. But what would Lois say? She wouldn’t be impressed if I shied away at the first opportunity of gathering information about Denton and what he was up to. Besides, what kind of undercover agent would I be if I ran away from the action, instead of towards it?
Anyway, the door was ajar. When people left doors open they wanted you to look in. That had to be true. I’d read it on the Internet somewhere.
I stood close to the door and leaned against the wall, trying to make it look like I was just waiting for someone, and then peaked through.
Denton stood over a man currently trying to pick himself up off the floor. The man was muttering something about not being able to pay and needing more time.
“You said that the last time,” Denton yelled. “And the time before that. I don’t usually give people three chances. I never give them a fourth.”
The man clambered back to his feet, but the second he was upright, Denton swung a fist and crunched it into the man’s face.
I gasped as the punch landed, and ducked back from the door in case Denton looked over. I’d never seen anyone hit like that before. We’d had some physical training at the FBI, but it was all heavily choreographed. I’d seen some MMA on television--I had a weak spot for Elliot Michaels--but seeing it in the flesh terrified me.
The man’s head had snapped to the side on contact, and for a split second, I thought the accompanying noise was his neck snapping. Denton’s punch hadn’t quite been that powerful, but I think some bones had been broken.
The man was back on the floor and this time he was spitting blood, barely able to breathe.
“Stand up, Perry” Denton commanded. “You know I don’t like hitting people when they’re already down.”
The man seemed to laugh, but with a mouthful of blood and possibly a broken jaw, it was kind of hard to tell.
“Not much incentive,” he mumbled, but did make an effort at getting to his feet.
Then Perry took me by surprise, and Denton too by the looks of it. Before Perry was even upright, he lunged at Denton, who stumbled back against the wall in shock.
Perry swung a couple of punches, and even though his technique wasn’t up to much, he made contact with Denton’s head which slammed back into the wall with a painful sounding thud.
On instinct, I closed my eyes, unable to watch, but then I forced them back open. This was exactly the sort of thing I’d been sent undercover to witness. I couldn’t close my eyes and pretend it wasn’t happening.
Denton didn’t seem too fazed by the punch, but Perry got his attention when he pulled a knife from one of his pockets.
“What do you think you’re doing with that thing?” Denton asked. He didn’t look at all concerned, but I was frightened enough for the both of us.
Perry was in a bad way, but that made him desperate. All it took was one lucky swing with that knife and… I didn’t even want to think about it.
“I’ve had enough,” Perry yelled. “You and your father have extracted everything you can from me. I’m ending this.”
Denton seemed to be mouthing “come on, do it,” to Perry, as if he wanted him to try his luck. Perry did just that. He lunged forward, but Denton reached out and grabbed his wrist, pulling Perry towards him, but sending the knife sailing harmlessly past his torso.
Denton slammed a knee into Perry’s stomach, and then kicked his legs out from under him. Perry fell to the floor for a third time, but on this occasion he stayed there.
The fight was over, but I didn’t know what would happen next. Is this where Denton finished him off? According to my instructions from Lois, I could, and should, break my cover if I had the opportunity to save a human life, but she’d said it reluctantly.
As far as Lois was concerned, this lot could all kill each other and she wouldn’t shed a tear. It would certainly make her job a lot easier.
For a brief moment, I considered stepping into the room, but Denton didn’t make any effort to pick up Perry’s knife that had fallen to the floor, and he appeared to be calming down and collecting his breath. It looked like Perry would live to fight another day.
The clamminess that had covered my neck earlier, was now a cold sweat, and I desperately needed to get to the bathroom to collect my thoughts. The fight had only lasted a couple of minutes, but the violence was so up close and personal that it would likely last etched on my memory for quite some time.
“Chloe,” Denton called out. My name stopped me in my tracks. He’d seen me. Could I pretend I was just walking passed on my way to the bathroom?
“Yes,” I replied, not turning back to face the office.
“You can come in.”
Shit. He must have seen me watching, otherwise he wouldn’t just casually invite me into a room with a bloody and beaten man on the floor.
I stepped inside and shut the door behind me. For a man concerned about discretion, he should have been a little more careful about leaving the door open.
Once inside the office, I could see the bank of monitors on the wall, showing images from around the club, including one of the corridor just outside his office where I had been standing. He’d seen me. At least I hadn’t attempted to take pictures.
“You okay?” Denton asked. “That can’t have been pleasant to watch.”
“I’ve seen worse,” I replied, thinking back to the time I peeked through the banisters of t
he stairs and watched my dad get beaten up for late payment on a debt. Mom hadn’t been at home to protect me, and Dad thought I was in bed. That image had haunted me for years.
“I’m fine,” Perry replied from the floor, and then laughed at his own joke.
“What happens to him?” I asked, trying to sound distant and carefree. We weren’t about to take him to a hospital, and I doubted someone in Perry’s line of work--whatever that was--wanted to go there anyway.
“I’ll let him stumble out of here and think about what he’s done,” Denton replied.
“Do you want my help with--” I trailed off as I noticed the blood soaking through his tight white t-shirt on the left hand side of his stomach.
Denton looked down and was surprised as me to see all the blood. I heard Perry mutter “oh shit,” behind me and then scurry out of the room.
“You’re bleeding,” I said, stating the obvious.
“That appears to be the case.”
Perry’s knife lay on the floor. It was coated in blood.
Come on, Chloe, you’ve had training for this.
My first aid knowledge finally made its presence known in my brain, and I snapped out of the trance that had taken over me while I stared at the ever-increasing blood stain on his shirt.
“Where’s the first aid kit?” I asked. “You must have one.”
“I’m fine,” Denton replied. “It’ll heal by itself eventually.”
“You didn’t fall off your tricycle and scrape your knee, Denton. You’ve been stabbed.”
“Yes, I’m aware of that,” he replied, with a smile. “Alright Nurse Tamworth, the first aid kit is in that cupboard over there. Under the security monitors.”
I headed over to the monitors, and caught a glimpse of Perry leaving the building. He already looked a lot better than he had a few minutes ago, and at least he didn’t have a stab wound to content with.
I pulled the first aid kit out and examined the limited supplies. I wouldn’t be able to stitch it up, but there was alcohol to clean the wound and plenty of bandages and gauze.