Sex, Lies, and Joysticks by Lynn Chantale

Author:Lynn Chantale [Chantale, Lynn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Multicultural; Suspense; Polyamory
Publisher: Loose Id LLC
Published: 2014-10-15T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Matteo raised the heavy ceramic mug to his lips and blew across the steaming brown liquid. The rich scent of fresh-brewed coffee wafted to his nostrils, and he inhaled appreciatively. He glanced around the dingy diner.

A thin greasy film coated the fixtures beneath the layer of dust. What wasn't covered in dust was better left unspoken. Cracked red polyurethane seats were held together with a combination of clear and silver duct tape. A few of the backless stools affixed to the eat-in counter had their metal footrests missing.

Even the booth Matteo sat in at the back of the diner had seen better days. The tiled top was chipped, and corners were missing. Twice he had to remove gobs of gum from his elbow, until finally he pried the forgotten pieces from the windowsill and beneath the edge of the table.

Once he’d made the area habitable, he sat back to wait for his contact. He could see the entire restaurant from his vantage point, and if things went south, he could sneak out the back entrance between the restrooms. The employees kept the locking mechanism taped over for smoke breaks. Dumb, but that meant he could leave without an alarm going off.

The past few months were something he didn’t want to imagine. It wasn’t just the days that haunted him. A small measure of peace and sanity could be found to fill his days, but the nights—the nights were the worst. That was when his fears lay in wait and tackled him, when he missed Randa to the point of throwing caution to the wind and telling her the truth in hopes of absolution.

He gulped hot coffee and swore when he scalded his tongue and esophagus.

“You always pick the shittiest dives,” a good-natured voice said to his left, a mere foot or so in front of the table.

Matteo wiped his mouth with the napkin and set his mug on the table. “Better to blend in with the rest of the people and see who doesn’t.” Matteo glanced pointedly between them. Matteo was dressed in a well-worn surplus army jacket, like most of the other men in the place, with a knit cap and fingerless gloves. His companion, Destin Maddox, however, wore a beat-up trench coat and bowler. The leather attaché case he carried drew furtive stares from the other patrons. “You stand out like a two-dollar whore in the high-rent district.”

“Had I known I was going slumming, I’d have dressed appropriately,” Maddox said.

Matteo grinned. “What have you got for me, Maddox?”

The dark-skinned man removed his hat and placed it on top of the case next to him on the bench. He held his gaze. “It isn’t good.”

Matteo hoped he kept a blank expression on his face. “How bad?”

“When your file was accessed, which, by the way, I have no idea how that happened—it triggered a virus. This virus was designed to transfer any information the Agency had on you.”

He didn’t want to hear all the details; he wanted the bottom line.

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