Haunting-Adeline

Oh, what a fine gentleman you’re pretending to be.
I sneer at him as I slide in, refusing to be embarrassed. The door slams
shut, and the smell of Zade envelops me. Leather, spice, and a hint of
smoke.
The en re interior of the car is black, bu ery so leather. But what
renders me speechless are the gadgets decora ng his car. There are so
many switches, screens—a laptop?—and so on that I don’t even know
what the hell I’m looking at.
When he slides into his seat and lurches the car forward, I shrink against
the door. We descend into a s lted silence. It’s not awkward necessarily,
but it’s tense. Charged. The sexual tension in the car has fingers trailing
along my flesh and raising the goosebumps on my skin like zombies from
their graves.
What happened outside felt like a prelude to something I’m not sure I’ll
survive. I’m breathing in the sta c air, and it feels like with every inhale, I’m
pulling apart ar cles of clothing fresh from the dryer.
“How far away is it?” I ask, my voice hoarse and rough. My throat is
going to be sore for days.
He glances at me, his hand ghtening around the wheel. I never knew
the act of driving a vehicle could look so pornographic un l now.
“Twenty minutes if traffic behaves.”
“I think now would be a great me to explain what this whole thing is
about. What do you even do for a living?” I ques on, the conversa on with
Daya s ll fresh in my mind.
“I hack into government and military databases and expose crimes
against humanity. I also take things a bit more personal and infiltrate the
lives of officials who have proven themselves corrupt or evil.”
My mouth opens, but no sound escapes.
Oh, fuck.
“You’re Z.”
The smile widens. “You finally figured it out. Daya tell you that?”
My eyes bulge. “You know her?” I ask incredulously.
He shrugs a shoulder. “She’s one of hundreds who work in my
organiza on,” he explains simply. “I don’t know her personally. And I’ve
certainly never met or talked to her. But I know everybody that works for
me.”