Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 93984 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93984 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Ouch.
And yeah, Gabriel was right. One hundred percent right. As much as he hated to admit it.
Justin was a fucking perfectionist, which tended to drive him a little crazy. But that need for protection was what kept him alive. It kept other people alive as well and killed very bad people. If he wasn’t a perfectionist, good people would die and bad people would live.
It just sucked that his preoccupation with Gabriel would result in a mistake in front of this pretentious prig.
“Bastard,” he muttered.
“Amateur,” Gabriel immediately fired back. He set his utensils down and looked over at Justin as if daring him.
Justin smiled. “Well, at least it’s going to be an interesting two months.”
“Hopefully shorter.”
He waited for the server to sweep away their empty plates before he spoke again. “Afraid of getting bored?”
“Two months of waiting for you to break through various security systems isn’t my preferred way of keeping entertained,” Gabriel said in a low voice.
“How about an outing then? I had planned to go alone, but it might be nice to have company. Plus, it’s a good chance to see if we can work together without trying to kill each other.”
“What type of outing did you have in mind?” His voice had been bland, but there was no missing the interest in his eyes. Justin was beginning to believe it was the man’s one tell. Gabriel could wipe the emotion from his face and clear it perfectly from his voice, but his eyes gave him away almost every time. That was going to be useful, assuming Gabriel wasn’t already playing him.
“A visit to Dr. Weiss’s home.”
“His computer?”
Justin paused, pulling out his wallet when the server brought the check. He barely even glanced at it, just dropped a few bills in the leather folder and pulled out the receipt. This dinner was getting expensed.
“The cops grabbed that along with his briefcase and laptop. I saw it on the list in the case file,” he explained when they were alone again. “I want to see if the good doctor had any notes left behind to indicate if he backed up his work to a cloud or maybe a portable hard drive.”
“You think we’re going to be lucky enough to have the dead doctor hand us the files we need to finish this job?”
Justin snickered. “Hell no, but there’s a first time for everything, and I have no desire to keep you around for two months if I can end this partnership tonight.”
“At least we found one thing we can agree upon.”
Chapter 3
Justin Mallory was an idiot.
That or he played a very convincing idiot.
Gabriel couldn’t decide which was the case, but he was sure he’d find out soon enough. In the meantime, he cursed himself for taking the job and Marilyn for contacting him in the first place. He even cursed the city itself. The sun had set more than an hour ago and yet the air remained disgustingly humid and thick, like walking through hot, damp cotton.
They separated long enough for Gabriel to change clothes in his hotel room—sneaking through a dead man’s house was not a place for an Armani suit—before meeting Justin at Fountain Square. With his hands shoved in his pockets, Gabriel stared up at the bronze-cast woman with water pouring down from her outstretched hands. Golden light gilded her and her companions as they watched over the city.
People strolled through the open square with children weaving and darting among them. The entire city had a relaxed, friendly feel to it, so unlike the great capitals of the world he’d briefly resided in over the years. Distant and cold, too self-aware of their place in history and the global economy, the cities were never truly home. Just a place to sleep, to hide, and to plan his next job.
No, Cincinnati still believed in being a home, a haven to her citizens.
Turning, Gabriel spotted Justin as he crossed the square, cutting through the crowds of people as they sought out entertainment to start their weekend. Gabriel couldn’t tear his eyes away. Justin was a couple of inches taller with wider shoulders. His broad chest, now accentuated by a black T-shirt, tapered into a flat stomach and narrow hips. His every movement was powerful, like a lion prowling his domain. He did not look like a man who spent his life behind a computer screen.
Justin Mallory was ex-special forces. Gabriel would bet a former SEAL or maybe Marine reconnaissance, but he couldn’t begin to guess what would send such a well-trained killing machine hiding behind a keyboard. It didn’t make sense. Justin belonged in the field, all those barely concealed muscles flexing and straining as he hunted his prey.
For a second, the image of Justin pinning him to the bed, his larger body covering his, hips thrusting, flashed through his mind. Justin leaning down, that mocking smile on his lips, his light-brown hair threatening to fall into his brown eyes.