Page 32 of Iris' Lying Eyes
“I’m Diem. The old man said you were pretty, but you’re hot.” He licks his lips as I dip my chin. He’s devastatingly gorgeous, but all I can focus on is what’s coming for me.
This must be my new keeper. Great. At least the one before him seemed malleable. I suspect pulling anything over on this one will be nothing short of a miracle.
“I liked the other guy better,” I say sourly, and he cocks his head.
“Too bad. He didn’t work out.”
Jesus, hardcore this one. What does that even mean? Is he dead?
Shaking my head, I mentally sigh. I have to play this carefully because it could mean my head, literally if Diem or his boss catches on.
Pulling up a casual tone that belies my shiver, I say, “What does he want?”
“What everyone else does,” he says, gazing at me steadily.
“And?”
“You’re the go-between.”
“Why? Why me?” Once again, I’m regretting the road I chose. Can’t anything ever be easy?
“Because no one will think twice if the dick has a bitch on the side,” he says, and I glower. I don’t suppose now would be a good time to fuck his shit up over the comment.
“Excellent.” I can’t help my sour tone because the shit continues to roll downhill. “What’s the plan anyway?”
He shrugs. “Don’t know. Don’t care.”
“You don’t care?” I ask, cocking my head to the side.
“Nope. The less I know, the better.” He gives me a meaningful look, and I smile halfheartedly.
I already know too much. Story of my life.
“Here.” He hands me a slip of paper, and I take it with a sigh. “Establish contact. I’ll be in touch.”
“That’s it? Has the old man,” I form air quotes, “thought about how this is going to go? You know the senator isn’t going to be patient. Shit, I’ll be lucky if he doesn’t just take me out.”
His dark eyes dance, and I frown. That wasn’t meant to be fucking funny. “Are you always this serious?”
Cocking a devilish brow, he leans into me and says, “Darlin’, I’m more fun than you can handle.”
“Oh, I’m sure,” I say, rolling my eyes, but his smile fades, and my stomach lurches. Now what?
“Listen, you have to be prepared for the shit that’s about to go down,” he says.
“Go down,” I parrot.
He shakes his head and huffs. “Don’t play games. I hate fucking liars.”
I raise my brow but glance around. It’s just the two of us, alone on a fucking bridge. I don’t even know the asshole.
“Relax,” he says.
“Fuck off,” I snarl, and he chuckles before rubbing his mouth. “Maybe you’re not a total waste.”
Rolling my eyes, I look out over the water. So far, he’s pretty and harmless, although I sense a darker side beneath the playful exterior.
“Well?” I ask, nibbling on my bottom lip.