Never Kiss a Bad Boy Read Online Free PDF Page B

don't act like you know the lingo. And we are not fucking bloodhounds. We can't—”
    “Alright.” Jacob lifted an arm, effectively shutting Kite up. The red-haired man balked, and I suspected this wasn't normal. “Marina,” he said, bending closer to me. The gun was still in his hand, I didn't enjoy having it so close. “I need to talk the details over with Kite. But, if we accept your payment, and we agree to help find this man, there will be conditions. Understand?”
    My mouth was very dry. Why did I run out of vodka and tonic? “What conditions?”
    Turning enough to peer back at Kite, the man in his crisp grey suite smiled. “I'll need to talk it over with my associate. We'll come to an agreement. Just give us some time alone to reach a mutual understanding.”
    Kite's glare said he didn't want to come to any breed of understanding. “Alright,” I said softly.
    For the second time that night, I was left alone with my thoughts.

- Chapter 5 -
    Jacob
    ––––––––
    T he hallway was humming. Grabbing Kite by the shoulder, I shoved him into our cramped, poor excuse for an office. It had nothing but filing cabinets, a white board, and a tiny computer in one corner.
    “What the hell are you thinking?” he snapped at me, yanking out of my reach. “You can't just agree to this shit without my say!”
    Smoothing my sleeve, I then folded it up my forearm. The other followed. “You're right, but I needed to make her think we were going to work with her.”
    “You told her we were!”
    “I told her that so she wouldn't decide to run off to the cops the instant she was out of our sight. Kite, we need time to think.” Furrowing my brows, I sat in the computer chair. “Calm yourself down and listen to reason.”
    Roughly, he scratched at his hair with both hands. “I'm just pissed, how did this happen? All these years, and we mess up on the final hit? This girl actually sees me do it?”
    My fingers clicked on the keyboard. “Doesn't matter how it happened. It matters that it did. Right now, as long as she has this letter—if it exists—she's got us by the balls. Even if it isn't real, everyone saw her walk into our bar. They saw you talk to her, saw you take her to the backroom. This can't be solved tonight.”
    “So what do we do?” Kite asked, moving back to my side. “Torture her until she tells us where the damn thing is, or who has it?”
    Torture. That wasn't something we commonly indulged in. A few times, when we were bouncers, we'd been tipped extra to get a little 'rough' with some customers the owner didn't like.
    “No. What if we go too far before she talks? We don't know how long before someone reports her missing. What we need is more details about our new friend.” Spinning the screen, I showed him what I was doing.
    The website listed a newspaper headline in giant, bold letters: Fidel family massacre. Only one survivor.
    Kite gawked at me. “Wait,” he said. “No way, is this her family? How did you know her last name?”
    “I looked at her ID when I was digging in her purse. Marina Fidel, it's her alright.”
    Together, we leaned in to read the article. It was a brutal story, and though they never said Marina's name, we could figure the pieces out.
    A mother, a father, and a daughter only nine years old. All of them, executed in their home. There was evidence of rape, and the time of death showed the father died last. No leads on the suspects, and the only connection was the Fidel family business being burned to the ground the same night.
    One survivor. It didn't list how she managed to get out alive, just that she existed.
    My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. “Now we know we don't have to worry about any immediate family.”
    “I get why she wants revenge,” Kite said softly. Shaking himself, he turned away from the screen. “It says this happened sixteen years ago. She had to have been a child. To hold a grudge this long... Frank Montego, he was really involved in