10. Messiah

I tell myself I have to finish the new job Charles has sent my way and focus for a few hours on digging through Holden's computer, and then I can make my way to the club to see my Angel.

My Angel. Fucking right she is. She doesn't know it yet. She will in time. After two days of watching her from the shadows and coming home just to jerk my dick to the thought of her, I decided that Angel was going to be mine. The fact that she worked a job where other men stared at her tits and tried to grab her ass on a regular basis was just a hurdle we were going to have to work through. Fuck, I made decent money. She could stay home while I went out to make the bacon, as they say. If she wanted to. I wasn't against my woman working. She just needed to be fully clothed when she did it.

The job Charles sends my way is a basic hit. A militant got too big for his britches and decided to sell out information to another faction. A fucking stupid move. I find him at his house half asleep; and two minutes later, I walk away as he bleeds out on his kitchen floor.

I grab coffee and head back home to hack Holden's computer. I put on nylon gloves as I work and feel a hint of disappointment when I figure out his password – for everything – was the same as his fucking username. HoldenThisDick. Fucking original. He has some nonsense on his desktop, random saved pictures of girls in various states of dress. His browser history is nothing but stupid search engine questions and dating websites. Dating websites.

I do some digging and see that he was shuffling around about five girls on three different sites. Two have messaged since his demise. I browse the chat history between them and that leads me to another messenger app. This one is filled with a long list of names spanning back a few years. Fuck. This guy was really trying. Why couldn't he just pay for some pussy like the rest of us and move on with his day?

My coffee doesn't last long enough and I give up after scanning through a few months of messages. The first two images of Holden's unimpressive cock were disturbing enough. Once I saw it for the eighth time, I decided it was time for a break.

I brew another pot of coffee and check the time. It is still early in the day. Angel won't be at work yet. I waste some time scrolling the television before deciding to give Holden's burner phone a look. There isn't much in there. No images. No saved contacts. All of the texts are listed under their original numbers. I open the last message he sent. This could be something.

HEADING TO PICK UP NEW GIRL.

He was meeting someone. I scroll back through the messages on his computer and read out the plan he had made to let some underage girl move in with him. Was the fucker that stupid? There were no pictures shared in the text, but I got a name. Kitty.

"I think he was meeting someone at the park," I explain to Mark.

I am on my way to the club to see my girl, but I thought I should at least let Mark know that I finally found something of worth.

"Drug deal gone wrong?" Mark asks.

"I don't think so. It was a chick. Well, he thought it was a chick. He has a long history of being in the chat rooms looking for women."

Mark is quiet on the other end. I tap my finger against the steering wheel as I wait for an answer.

"Were the other guys maybe into the same thing?" I ask, trying to break the silence.

"How the fuck would I know?" He sighs and I can hear the phone shuffle as he moves on his end of the line.

"It isn't uncommon for guys like that to snatch girls up for pimps or sex trafficking. Maybe someone finally fought back," I tell him.

"Could that even be proven?"

"Maybe. I'd have to do some more digging on Holden's end and try to see what I can find from the others. I have been keeping tabs on the rest of his crew to see if anything suspicious comes up there."

"Maybe the whole kill them first idea wasn't such a bad idea," he mumbles.

"Ah, don't go getting too hard on me," I joke. "I don't want to play nice with a new informant on the squad. Got to keep your ass around."

"I'll let you know if anything comes up on my end."

"Got it."

I hang up the phone and drive the rest of the way to the club. Garcia gives me a stern nod at the door and I say hello to Bailey as I make my way back to my usual spot near the employee's door. The idea of seeing Angel again – even though I just saw her last night – makes me happy. It is something bright in an otherwise dull day.

She is wearing her blonde wig as she steps out and rolls her eyes when she takes note of me sitting there. I watch as she takes a few steps away, then stops and turns toward me.

"You can't be here," she gripes.

"Why not?" I ask, leaning back in the booth. "Jack and coke. I'll tip extra if you smile when you bring it back."

She rolls her eyes again as she turns toward the bar. She is fucking adorable. I want to see what she is like outside of this place. Who is she under that sparkly makeup and fake hair? I bet her real hair is dark and long. My fingers twitch imagining the feel of the silky strands wrapped around my fingers as I bend her over in front of me.

She weaves through the tables across the club, and I watch as she places my order at the bar. She waits as the topless bartender fixes up the drink and slides it over. Angel grabs a napkin and walks back to me. Tonight she is wearing something a bit more revealing than her usual getup. Instead of a body suit, she has on a skin tight black dress with long sleeves. There is a sparkly mesh on the sides that gives a peak at her figure, and I am guessing she has a push up bra underneath to make her chest look bigger than usual.

She slaps the napkin down in front of me and places the glass harshly on top before sliding it across.

I pull a folded ten out of my pocket and drop it just as harshly on the table. I can see the black polish on her nails as she grabs it, tucking it into her dress. I sip my drink as I reach into my pocket and hold up another ten.

"A smile," I ask.

She stares at the money. No doubt probably debating how much she needs it. After talking to Kevin and Oakleigh, I know she doesn't make much. There are no roommates or family to help her with whatever hovel she lives in, so, I am sure rent is a priority for her. Probably a higher one than food based on her figure. I pull out a third ten and wave it in front of me as I raise my brow. Huffing, she crosses her arms over her chest and gives me a smile. She is a good actress. It almost looks like she wants to. And just as I had expected, she is fucking gorgeous.

I drop the money and take another drink. She snatches up the bills and turns away. I let her go. While I sip this first drink, I just want to watch her. For my second drink, I pay her again to smile at me then pull a twenty from my pocket and ask her to sit down.

"I don't do private dances," she tells me.

"It doesn't have to be private. I just want you to sit in that seat and I'll order us drinks," I explain.

"I can't drink on the clock."

"I'll let Kevin bitch me out for it."

"Like that is going to help me?"

"We are old friends," I tell her.

She eyes the twenty between my fingers. Another girl walks by – I can't remember her name – and I order another drink for me and one for Angel. I don't know what she likes. Based on the glare she is giving me, I am betting she is a straight shot type of girl, so I order her two shots of tequila.

My foot taps the floor in time with the music blaring through the speakers as I wait for her response. I have to suppress my smile when she grips the chair across from me and yanks it back, flopping down into the seat and crossing her arms over her chest. Triumphantly, I drop the twenty on the table.