“Bullshit.” I grab the back of his neck and bring my face close to his, our eyes locked. “Everyone wants something. What. Do you. Want?”

His breaths become ragged as his gaze drops to my mouth. The question of whether or not he’s bold enough to take what he desires hangs in the small span of air between us, a charged yearning that begs for our lips to collide.

He’s all restraint and unyielding resolve as his gaze flicks upward. “I want to experience that rush again,” he says. “Like the other night.”

The corner of my lips slowly tip into a smile. I remain close to him, letting his words wash over me, as if I can siphon a small amount of his exhilaration for myself. “Then you have to accept the reality that there’s always collateral damage, Alex.” I brush my fingers through his hair, tucking an errant strand into place. “The escort is expendable.”

His pupils dilate, those dark eyebrows draw together. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He says the words, but I notice how his jaw flexes, a muscle tics. He’s angry.

He moves away from me and busies himself at his desk.

I admit, the fire in his eyes gives me a tiny thrill. “Trust me, girls like that can handle themselves. They don’t need a hero, Alex.”

“I get it, Blakely.” He slams one of his thick science books closed. “I don’t need to be convinced any further.”

“What about coddled?” I say, taking another jab. “Do you want me to lie to you and tell you nothing bad will happen? That we’ll intervene just in time to save the damsel in distress?”

He exhales heavily as he picks up his glasses and pushes them into place. Removing his watch from his pocket, he checks the time. “We’re going to be late.”

A laugh slips free, and Alex looks at me. “What?”

“You’re the white rabbit,” I say. At his frown, I add, “From Alice in Wonderland. He’s always checking the time on his pocket watch, so worried about being late.”

Completely stoic, he slips his watch into his front pocket. “It’s Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland.”

I hold up my hands in mock surrender. “Down boy.”

There’s a moment where I think my teasing tone might garner a laugh, ease the strain he’s under, but he turns away to start collecting his items for tonight without any emotional response.

The tension in the air is heavy. It’s moments like this I wish I had the ability to understand what he’s feeling. Is it anxiety? Dread? Guilt? As it is, I can’t make myself care too much. If he’s not willing to enlighten me, then there’s very little I can offer him in way of advice.

All I have are the skills necessary to get him out of the situation if it goes bad.

Honestly, if I do have to pull out of the job, it’s not the end of the world. I could give Lenora back her money, walk away from the whole mess. Only, this is no longer about just finishing a job. Punishing the mark.

I’m curious to watch Alex—to see what he does, how he responds. For the first time in a long while, I’m excited that I don’t know how the job will play out.

“Alex, last chance…” I raise a questioning eyebrow. “Or forever hold your peace.”

This time, Alex doesn’t waver. “I’m ready,” he says. “Absolutely no regrets.”

“All right then. Lead the way.”

Just like Alice, I follow my white rabbit down the hole into the shadowy unknown of our dark Wonderland.

13

Bait

Blakely

At night, the sounds of the city are distanced. Every blaring horn, screeching brake, and enraged shout feel muffled by a gauzy web that blankets the air, a sort of detached veil for the people who walk the streets.

It’s a necessary survival skill to distance yourself from the madness. You can’t cower at every bump in the night.

And tonight, I’m the boogeyman.

Black hoodie pulled down to shield my face, I stand at the corner of a dive bar as I wait for my mark. Since most of the pressure is on Alex to perform later, I’m taking on Maybelline Mayberry, our damsel in distress.

We had this whole super covert plan worked out where Alex would spill a drink on her handbag, and I’d help hold her things in the lady’s room… But just like most of Alex’s theories, it became too convoluted.

When devising a scheme of any measure, it’s best to keep it simple. Fewer variables, less of a chance something will go wrong. That’s one thing Alex and I agree on. Why go all cloak and dagger when a simple mugging will get the job done?

A blonde wearing a little black dress saunters up smoking a cigarette. If I didn’t recognize her from the picture on the escort site, I’d still know she was here for Ericson. She’s just his type.

In the end, you have to take what you want—and what I want is in her purse.

A few feet away from the escort, Alex leans against the building, his head bowed as he stares at his phone. He looks up at her, then gives me a nod. I pull the knit mask up to cover the bottom half of my face. When we’re discussing this later, I’ll tell Alex how very secret agent he is in this moment. He’ll like that.

As the blonde taps out the cigarette with the toe of her four-inch pump, I start in her direction. Moving at a swift pace, I keep my head cast down and my eyes locked on her handbag. Ironically, just a couple weeks ago, the roles in this scenario were reversed when a guy attempted to mug me. Now here I am, the thief.

I hope Maybelline isn’t a fighter.

The event happens fast. I snatch the strap of her purse and take off, my feet pounding the pavement. She yelps and frantically announces that her bag has been stolen. Alex comes to her rescue. I hear him behind me, gaining ground.

I dodge a group of tourists and dip around the building to enter the alley, my breath sawing my lungs. I don’t wait for Alex to catch up; I open Maybelline’s bag and dig out her phone.

I snap the purple case off in preparation and have it ready when Alex comes around the corner. I hold it up. “Here. Hurry.”

“Shit.” Alex grabs his side. “Should’ve had a few practice runs. My heart is about to explode.”

Impatience bites my nerves. “That’s what you get for sitting at a lab desk all day. Give me the device.”

“I got it.” Alex unwraps the thin device that will turn Maybelline’s phone into a hot mic. Using the plastic bag to handle the device so he won’t leave fingerprints, he lays it on the back of the phone and snaps the case into place. “Test the Bluetooth connection.”

Earpiece already in place, I press the button to turn it on. We synced the device before we left his apartment.

He whispers near the phone: “Your eyes are beautiful.”

A smiles slides across my face. “But not the rest of me?”

He huffs a derisive laugh. “I need to get this back to our damsel.”

“Look. You get to be her hero, after all.” I wink at him. “Now go return her—” I read the label on the front of the bag “—knockoff Gucci so you can reap the reward.”

Alex is not amused as he mutters a curse under his breath, but I know he’s secretly elated. This is why he’s here, to inject excitement into his dull life.

He drops the phone into the handbag and turns to go, but hesitates, facing me once more.

I tilt my head, waiting for him to say whatever’s on his mind. “What is it?” When he remains quiet, I snap, “Alex, go.”

“I’ll see you soon, Blakely.” That boyish smile touches his eyes, then he’s gone.

Adjusting the earpiece, I test the connection as I peek around the corner to watch Alex and the escort’s interaction. Their exchange is predictable. She wraps her arms around him, as if he just saved her from a burning building instead of returning her cheap bag.

Alex is the epitome of a Boy Scout. Denying any offer of reward—that Maybelline makes very apparent is in the currency of flesh—and accepts her offer to share a ride to The Plaza together.