Ten Thousand Lies (19 page)

“So…do you miss New Jersey at all?” I asked, striving for some casual conversation.
This is good. I can do this.

She sat down on the stool in front of the computer Rex had just vacated. “Not really.”

“Your friends?”

She shrugged.

Maybe this isn’t as easy as I thought it would be.

“I guess. But not as much as I missed being here. What about you?” she asked.

“What about me what?”

“Aren’t there people you miss back in England?”

“Not anymore,” I replied.

She nodded, and I got the feeling she truly understood me.

Silence. The awkward kind.

“Do you still like it here?” I asked.

“I’ve always loved Amsterdam. You?”

“Yeah. I mean, it wasn’t what I thought I’d be doing. But, now that I am, I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

“What did you think you’d be doing?” she asked.

For most of my life, Charles Godwin had controlled me with an iron fist. Once free of him, I still hadn’t had freedom. The Locals had taken me in and turned me into an assassin before I could actually weigh my options. While in some respects, yeah, I was happy, free of a life of organized crime and creating art. But I was still being ordered about by an institute, my life not wholly my own.

Really thinking about it though, it was a small price to pay for even having a chance to live my dream.

“I don’t even know.” It was a lie, and shame slithered through me.

Jaime knew I worked with the Locals, but I wasn’t too sure if she knew exactly what it was I did for them. I wasn’t too sure I wanted her to know. It was my hope that perhaps she believed Ronen, Rex, and I did what Ellen and David did—intel shit.

Exploding into the shop, Rex lugged in a mop, broom, dustpan, and a bag bulging in what I could only assume were cleaning supplies. He looked as though he’d sprinted from the grocers.

“Damn, mate,” I said.

“That’s the fastest I’ve ever seen you move your ass,” said Jaime, hopping off the stool to relieve Rex of his burden. “Is there anywhere I can fill hot water in the bucket?”

“Yeah, there’s a small kitchen in the back. Follow me,” said Rex.

As the pair of them headed back, Ronen and his client came out. He watched the two of them duck into the kitchen while his customer came up to the counter.

“Is this your last one?” I quietly asked him.

“Yep. Yours is a no-show?”

“Looks like. I say we close shop and have a meeting. Jaime wants to wash the front.”

“
Wants
to?”

“Yeah.”

Rex and Jaime came out a few minutes later, Rex carrying the bucket with soap and water and Jaime with her arms full of sprays and rags. Ronen headed to the front door and locked it.

“We’ll be in my office, okay, Jaime? If you need us for anything, just call us on one of our cells, and we’ll come out,” I said.

She gave me a strange look. “All right.”

Very few people were allowed in my office—Ronen, Rex, and Ellen. And it wasn’t like Ellen made frequent trips to the shop. I’d probably let Xanthe in, but she’d never asked, and I’d never thought to offer.

But not Jaime. She’d see my drawings and think I was a psycho. The guys never looked at my drawing corner and wouldn’t notice the drawings of her hanging there.

“Shit, you got it bad,” stated Ronen as we made our way inside.

I locked the door behind us.
What the bloody hell?

Ronen walked his arse up to my wall, inspecting my portraits of Jaime. Heat crept up my neck, infusing my face.

“Ricki…” Rex said softly, coming up behind Ronen. “They’re beautiful.”

“Um…” I cleared my throat, and they both looked at me. “Can we please find out what Ellen sent us?”

Ronen’s eyebrows rose. “You have to tell her how you feel, mate.”

“I’m not having this fucking conversation. Let’s get to business.”

Striding to my desk, I grabbed the envelope and headed for the love seat. Ronen and Rex took opposite seats on either end of the couch. Tearing open the envelope, I pulled out several sheets written in code.

We had a mission starting two nights from now. We’d been given three names and photos of men to start staking out. They were Russian, and it was supposed they’d be receiving a shipment within a few months. We needed to become acquainted with them and glean as much as we could about them.

“What should we do?” asked Ronen, looking over the information.

“My guess is, they need to be taken out but not before the shipment arrives,” I replied. “For now, we just watch and wait.”

“One each,” said Rex, his voice buttery with a strange longing.

It’d been a long fucking time since we’d taken a kill, and just the thought of doing so sent a rush charging through me. It wasn’t like any bloodshed would do. It had to be evil motherfuckers. But, by God, it was awesome.
Necessary.
The only real lust I had ever known until Jaime came into my life.

We took about an hour to start planning. Ellen had provided all the info we’d need to get close to these guys. The Russians would be arriving at the airport on Sunday. They had three-month visas—standard for vacationers. There was no way these names were their real ones, and Ronen was given the job of finding out whom they were behind the aliases.

What we needed to know was how their shipment would be coming to them and where they’d unload it.

“I think these guys are big players,” said Ronen, staring at the photos. “I’ve seen this guy before.”

He held up one photo. The man in it looked brutal beneath his air of sophistication. Soulless eyes stared back at me from the picture.

“You guys…I think we’ve got some bosses here or, at the very least, men who answer only to the highest ranks in the Russian Mafia. Those Russians we took out a couple years ago? I think they were working for these guys.”

“How do you know?” asked Rex.

“When I researched those other guys”—Ronen stared hard at the soulless fucker—“this guy kept coming up. I think this one is his brother,” he said as he held up one of the other photos. “This feels like more than just a shipment.”

Rex and I perked up. Ronen and his vibes had gotten us out of more than one situation alive.

“What do you think it is?” asked Rex.

“I think they’re trying to ferret us out. This can’t be a coincidence. Think about it. These guys aren’t even here, and we get wind of a shipment to be delivered in three months? We’re lucky if we normally get a week. They know there are people here who’ll do what it takes to take down this sort of shit. They’ve lost a lot of money and men at our hands. I think this could be a setup.”

It made sense. If the big guys were coming in, it meant shit was getting serious. This was way more than just a shipment, if there even was a shipment.

“Do you think they’re specifically targeting us?” I asked.

Ronen looked at the one guy again. “Yeah, I think that’s exactly what it could be.”

“Shit,” said Rex.

“Well, let’s plan for that to be the case,” I said. “We need to meet with the Locals. We’re going require a hell of a lot more than the three of us. But we won’t be starting with surveillance until next week.”

“Do we want to send a message to Ellen with Jaime?” Ronen asked.

“Nah. How much does Jaime know about what we do?” I asked Rex. Out of the three of us, he’d be the one to know.

Rex shrugged. “I’m pretty sure she knows everything. Xanthe and David told her ages ago, but I don’t think she knows about your past. Why?”

I glanced at my drawings, a strange ache encasing my chest. “Nothing, man. Look, Ronen, I was thinking…” I told him about how Jaime was bored at the bookstore and suggested that she should come work in our shop.

“Couldn’t hurt. It’s not like she doesn’t know what she’s doing,” said Ronen.

“That’s what I was thinking,” I muttered. “We’ll figure out more over the weekend and talk to Ellen on Monday.”

Jaime

Monday morning, Xanthe and I went about flicking on the light switches and putting on a kettle for tea when Rex, Ronen, and Ricki walked into the bookshop. Without a word, they headed back to Ellen’s office and shut the door. If Xanthe thought it was odd, she made no mention of it. I took her lead and left well enough alone. No doubt, it had something to do with the envelope Ellen had had me deliver last Friday.

Ricki had smiled and winked at me on the way back though, which made me smile like a goof once they were out of sight.

After scrubbing the Inkwell down last Friday, the guys had taken me out for dinner and drinks. Xanthe had met up with us, and for the first time since I’d moved to Amsterdam, Ricki had loosened up, and we’d all had a really good time.

Now, as the four of them came out from Ellen’s office a good forty-five minutes later, Ricki and Ronen came up to me.

“Jaime?” asked Ricki, his voice sending pleasant shivers down my spine.

“Yeah?” I replied, setting down my book and looking at the both of them.

“We, uh…” Ricki’s cheeks above his beard flushed, and he averted his gaze when I met it.

Old habits die hard,
I supposed.

“We want you to come work for us,” said Ronen, taking pity on Ricki. “We need you. You know how to run a shop, and we don’t. Would you want to do that for us?”

“They’ll pay you more than I can afford to,” chimed Ellen, creeping out from the back.

“Seriously?” I asked, my heartbeat picking up in tempo.

Ricki nodded.

“We’d like to offer piercing, too,” said Ronen. “You’re perfect for us. What do you say?”

“I…” I looked at both of them, and then I glanced at Xanthe, who was trying hard not to bust out in an ear-to-ear smile. “I’d love to.”

“Awesome,” said Ronen. “So, grab your shit. You’re coming with us.”

“What? Like this very second?”

“It’s fine, sweetheart,” said Ellen. “It’s not like we’re slammed with work here.”

Xanthe snorted. “I’ll see you later, Bro Dawg. Go have some fun.”

Grabbing my bag, I followed Ricki and Ronen out of the shop. Rex stayed behind to hang with Xanthe and Ellen. Before me sat the pea-green Mini, and Ronen opened the passenger door, indicating I should have the front seat.

“After you, milady,” he said.

Smiling, I hopped in. As I did, I noticed Ricki scowling at Ronen as he made his way around the front of the car before taking the driver’s seat. I didn’t know why, but Ricki’s angry face was extremely sexy.

Shit, what am I getting myself into?

My crush on the man was returning full fucking force. Ricki constantly traipsed through my head, and more and more, I would find myself wondering what he looked like without clothes. His body was gorgeous in them, so it was easy to imagine that he was equally attractive out of them. I also wondered how much of him was tattooed.

Situated next to me, Ricki fired up the Mini. Behind me, the back door slammed shut, and Ronen poked his head between the seats.

“We’re heading to the shop,” Ronen explained. “You need to tell us what should be improved, and we should find a place to set up for your piercing. We’ve got the money for you to order whatever you need.”

“Sounds good.”

At the shop, the three of us worked on getting everything organized. I would use a small spare room off to the side of the front counter for piercing. Looking on the Internet, we found display cases and jewelry along with all the tools I’d need. Ricki called Deo, who had an extra barber chair he’d ship over in the next few days.

Then, we tackled bookings. Ronen set up a program in the computer that would keep their schedules in order. We printed out fancy deposit slips and consent forms. Within a few hours, the Inkwell was well on its way to being a reputable shop.

After they showed me where they stored their supplies, I went about checking out their stations. I was happy to see Ricki hadn’t been lying about the cleanliness in the back of the house.

“When was the last time you were inked?” Ricki asked as I restocked a few items in his station.

Ronen had headed out to grab some coffee, leaving Ricki and me alone.

As I looked up at him from my crouched position beside his cabinet, my heart sputtered. “Oh, uh…a couple of months ago.”

“Do you want more?”

“Of course,” I replied, smiling. “You?”

He answered with a smile of his own. “Yeah. Ronen’s the only one who’s inked me so far. Would you let me tattoo you?”

“Sure.”

His smile created a flurry of butterflies dancing in my stomach.

“Now?”

“Really?”
Hell yes!

“Yeah. What do you want?”

“I haven’t given it much thought.”

Ricki glanced at my wrist. “How about you let me draw something, and if you like it, we’ll do it. A cuff?”

Glancing at my wrist, I shrugged. “Yeah, all right.”

Taking a seat in the old-school barber chair, I fidgeted as he copped a squat on his stool and pulled out several different colored markers.

Adrenaline spiked as Ricki’s hand reached out and took my wrist. A strong current passed through the contact of our skin, and his strange eyes met mine for just a second. My hands began sweating, and mentally, I cringed as my palm made contact with his inner forearm. Hoping he wasn’t grossed out by my clammy touch, I breathed deep in an attempt to cool myself down.