Page 37 of Retribution
As we’re leaving, my stomach drops at what a waste of time this meeting turned out to be. I can’t help any of these women; I can’t act like I want to help them. Indifference. That’s all I’ve got. At the light touch on my elbow, annoyance zings through me because Finn keeps touching me when I’ve made it clear I don’t like it.
“Over there.” He jerks his head in the direction of the bar. “Isn’t that the guy who was tending bar in Newport?”
These are the kinds of moments I hate. The rush through my body isn’t adrenaline or excitement but fear. Raw fear. Malik is tying a garbage bag by the side door of the club. He’s not focused in our direction, and I don’t know if it’s because he grasps the seriousness of what might happen or he doesn’t realize I’m here. My heart kicks in my chest.
Chapter Fourteen
Telling him I don’t recognize Malik makes me unobservant. Of course, saying yes brings other complications.
“Yeah.” Feigning ignorance, I cock my head. “Yeah, I think you’re right.”
“Coincidence pisses me off. Go chat him up in the alley. I wanna know why he’s here and not in Newport.” As we step out into the bright sunlight, Finn scans the busy street. “Take Antonio with you.”
“I can shakedown one bartender,” I scoff.
He shoots me an annoyed look. “It’s not a shakedown. I want information, not money.”
Acting dumb is my least favorite stalling tactic. Sometimes it’s the only option I have. “I know that.” My words are clipped. “I can handle this. You want to watch? Be my guest. You brought me here. You might as well use me.”
With his hands in his pockets, Finn observes the passing cars, his expression difficult to read. The other men shift their feet behind us, some of them lighting cigarettes. “You got five minutes to get me an explanation I can live with. Then I’m sending Antonio, and he’ll get answers another way.”
Finn and the rest of the men get into the waiting vehicles while I head down the narrow alley. I’m glad he’s not watching, but I can’t assume he won’t show up behind me.
Malik is tossing another garbage bag into the bin when he glances in my direction. His attention flicks from me to behind me. He inclines his head in acknowledgement, his eyes saying things I understand because I know him so well.
“Can I help you?” he calls out.
“We met yesterday in Newport. You were the bartender at the Angry Irishman.” The name made me smile the other day. Now, it doesn’t seem quite so funny.
“Oh, yeah. My last day. Got a better offer here.”
I stop not far from him, looking him over. The red shirt he’s wearing highlights the richness of his dark skin. There are things I wish I could say, would have said yesterday if I’d known I might not get a chance. Instead, we are only feet apart, acting like strangers, talking in code.
The clock in my head ticks. Watching Antonio beat Malik isn’t on my agenda for the day.
“Weird coincidence seeing you here.”
“My girlfriend, Clarissa, got me in here—she knows Shen.”
“Right.” I file that tidbit away for Finn.
Malik peers beyond me before refocusing on me. When he speaks, his voice is even and casual, as though we’re strangers chatting about the weather. “Reassignment. Dai Qing is in. I’m out as your contact. I’m here if you need me. It’ll be tricky. But I would help. Backstory will cover me and Clarissa.”
I nod, pushing my hands deeper into the pockets of my coat. “Whipped by a woman.”
His dark eyes hold my gaze for an extra beat. “It was bound to happen.”
“Something came up the other day. I have questions for you.” I want to step closer, but I don’t dare.
“Dai Qing.” He shakes his head. “Not me.”
“You. I trust you.”
“It’s a bad idea. I’m a last resort. I’m in with the Zhangs now. Contact is dangerous.”
I hate we’re having this conversation here, that our words are clipped, thoughts not quite complete. The clock ticks.
My watch beeps. I set it for three minutes. Finn might not be a down-to-the-minute guy, but I can’t risk Malik to find out. “I gotta go.”