I, Target (The Complete Series) by Bruce Rousseau

Author:Bruce Rousseau [Rousseau, Bruce]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dark Teal Press
Published: 2014-12-29T22:00:00+00:00

3.6 East Meets Beast

When we arrived at Jade’s, I was surprised to see how normal it was. Just a quiet apartment in the hill country west of Austin. Her new car was a modest Chevy, not a cool new Corvette. Inside her apartment, it was the same quiet way of things—everywhere, nice but simple.

Jade kept flashing her sexy body parts for me, but I decided it was just an occupational habit, not a come-on. Still, I didn’t mind appreciating her assets.

So there we were, sitting in her living room, her in a naughty negligee she’d slipped into, me getting weird oriental stuff spread on my wrist abrasions.

“You like?”

“Yes.” It felt good. But in the mirror it looked like Wolf had been in a cat fight. “Are you okay?”

“No. Wolfie hurt.”

I’d been looking at some pictures on her end table. “Your family?”

“Yes. Family in my bedroom, too.”

That sounded weird, but I knew what she meant. More photos. At least that’s what I thought she meant. “They live in Austin?”

“No way. The clubs I work at—” She looked a little distant. “My butt only wiggles for strangers, not family.”

“You send money home?” I don’t know why I said that. I was sure it was true—and rude.

“Sometimes.” She switched to putting stuff on my ankles, avoiding eye contact, almost bowing.

I gathered I was embarrassing her, so I switched topics. “That was a nice condo we were in. Kinda weird, though.”

“Not condo. Hush house. Syndicate city.”

“You’ve been there before?”

“Not your room. Other rooms. Sand pit room. Mud wrestle room. Vodka ice bar—too cold. Dead animal room. I like your grotto room best.”

“Dead animal room?”

She nodded. “Dead animal room.”

“Oh. It’s a hunting room.”

“No. Room for after hunting.”

“Right.” After hunting you get stuffed animals. Trophy kills. “Dead animals on the wall.”

“Dead animals everywhere. People, too.”

“Dead people?”

She avoided eye contact. “Dead people after hunting.”

Gag. Who collects dead people trophies? I didn’t want to know, but I could easily guess—Jack or his messed up friends. But I still didn’t want to think about it. Sometimes it was best to look away.

“What kind of syndicate?”

She shrugged like she didn’t know—or maybe didn’t want to know. “Big syndicate. Bad people. Good money.”

“You must see a lot of that.”

She looked up and frowned, her eyes searching mine.

It seemed like I’d just insulted her. Did I? I certainly didn’t mean to judge her. “Sorry.”

“You not Wolf.”

“Huh?”

She grabbed Wolf’s bicep. “This part Wolf.” Then she tapped my head. “This part not Wolf. So who?” She tapped my head again. “Who up there? Strange man inside you. New man.”

“It’s just a head injury. One of the hazards of being a bodyguard.”

“BS. Head injury not make you smart. Not make you care. Not make you huggable panda.”

“I’m no panda.”

“Wolf now sheepdog. Killer now becomes protector. I see you in there. I see you now, nameless one.”

Was she looking at Nameless? Impossible. “People change.”

“Not that fast. I see you. Ego Wolf gone. Sable said you changed. She was wrong. Not changed. All different now. You different man inside.

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