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Chapter Twenty One Raya St Claire
I make my way through the dancing bodies, going back to the bar where Geoffrey was still serving drinks alongside his new bartender, Sam.
I frown when I don't see the newcomer seated on one of the stools, but then I remembered that he went outside to take a call. I wave at Geoffrey to say goodbye to him and Sam, but they don't seem to notice me. They were too busy helping a woman who was not too happy with her drink.
I open the door to leave the club, and when the doors close behind me, I notice the newcomer's black hair and leather jacket almost immediately, and he had his cellphone glued to his ear.
"I didn't say get close to the-"
"I know." He replies into the phone, shifting from one foot to the other, as if he was uncomfortable. I also noticed that his knuckles were white as he held onto the phone with a grip.
"Get it done." Someone on the other end of the line says. "You don't want to disappoint me, now do you?"
"No." The newcomer shakes his head, taking the phone away from his ear before he propped his phone with force into his pocket again. He turns around and freezes on the spot when he noticed me standing behind him. "Why are you sneaking up on me like that?" He chuckles nervously.
"Who were you talking to?" I ask, knitting my eyebrows together in confusion. I thought he said that it was the insurance company that kept pestering him, but it didn't sound like them at all. "It didn't sound like the insurance company."
The newcomer sighs, swiping a hand across his face. "I have a new contract." He says, a little hesitantly. "That's whose been calling me this entire time. They're persistent and want me to drop everything to accept the contract, but I told them numerous times that I can't accept it."
"A new contract?" I ask. "I thought you were done with that."
He chuckles, his composure returning to normal. "I'm a contract killer, princess. I will never be done with that. I will also never be able to put that side of me away ever again. It's in my blood."
"Who is it?" I ask. "The contract, I mean."
The newcomer shrugs. "I don't know. And I am not planning to know, either. I'm done with that." He scratches the skin below his chin. "But enough of that," he continues, "where's our next stop?"
"I don't know." I lift my shoulders in a shrug. "But I'm done with the drinking and the loud music coming from the club. I have a damn headache. I want to go somewhere a little quieter."
