Out
Prologue
Lara once again feels his eyes on her. That hot guy at the end of the bar who came in earlier tonight and have kept to himself, nursing the bottle of whiskey she served him. He’s been staring at her on-and-off right through the evening with those strange silvery eyes.
I could drown in those eyes, she thinks to herself as she puts an extra sway in her step when sauntering away from him, knowing his eyes would be on her ass.
She pretends not to be aware of his stare as she serves old Marvin his beer, and holler a welcome to the couple who entered through the establishment’s door with a tinkle of the bell hanging over it.
“Take a seat, dears, I’ll be right with you!”
When she saunters back towards the end of the bar where she keeps the menus, she deliberately avoids the stranger’s gaze. He doesn’t say a word, and it’s just a last-minute glance at him before she leaves the bar counter that has their eyes meet for a split second.
The thrill of it makes her skin instantly burst out in goosebumps, and she clenches her thighs when a tug of lust makes itself known.
As she moves away towards the new patrons to give them some menus, she could have sworn she saw his nostril flare just a tiny bit, as if he smelled her unexpected arousal. When she moves back behind the bar, his eyes are on her again.
“You need anything else, honey?” she asks him, her eyes unashamedly raking over his broad shoulders and muscled torso. There’s a sultriness in her voice that she’s not used to, and she’s almost shocked at her own flirtatiousness. This was so unlike her.
His silver eyes flick over her body and she feels her nipples pebble in her bra in response. Shit. This guy is sex on legs.
When he does answer, it was not what she was expecting. She should be shocked, but somehow she’s more turned on by his words.
“I could do with a quick fuck,” he answered, his voice a smoky, gravelly delight that sent an extra wave of wetness into her panties.
She swallows, holding his stare, and the thoughts that race through her mind is as novel to her as it is exciting.
Without breaking eye contact, she calls over her shoulder into the kitchen. “Davey, dear! Would you mind covering the bar for a bit? I have a slight emergency!”
A spotty young lad with a dishcloth over his shoulder peers though the swinging doors separating the bar area from the kitchen.
“Uhm. Sure? I guess so. You need help with anything, Lara?” he squeaks.
Still holding the stranger’s gaze, she replies: “It would help a great deal if you could just cover the bar for a while.”
He nods and shuffles into the room.
With legs like jelly and the thrill of knowing she's about to do something so stupid, so utterly unlike her, Lara slowly turned towards the ladies’ room doors situated towards the left of the bar. She had signaled mister silver eyes with a subtle crook of her finger and for a moment she didn’t know if she truly wanted him to follow her or not.
But he did follow. Because two minutes later he had her up against the wall of a bathroom stall, fucking her brains out.
Chapter 1
(Keira)
The message comes through at exactly 3:07 a.m. A single chime on my encrypted burner phone. Standard protocol. A meeting place, a time, and one word: Confirmed.
It’s unusual for me to initiate contact. My handler knows it. I know it. Normally, assignments flow one way — from them to me. A target, a time, an exit route. Clean, efficient, transactional. But yesterday, I broke pattern. I sent the message first. Requesting a meeting. Face-to-face.
So now, I’m here.
The diner is the kind of place where grease has soaked so deep into the walls it might be structural. Neon buzzes above me, bathing the cracked vinyl booth in sickly green light. The smell of burnt coffee clings to everything. It’s the perfect kind of nowhere for a meeting like this.
He walks in precisely on time, sliding into the booth across from me without preamble. My handler, Agent Ellis, though I’ve always wondered if that’s his real name, wears the same government-issued blandness as always. Dark suit, wire-rimmed glasses, tired eyes. He studies me for a beat before speaking.
“You’re not one for surprises, Keira. So, tell me... why now?”
Straight to the point. Good. We’re not friends. We’re not even colleagues. I’m an asset. A tool. And tools don’t ask for meetings.
I lean back slightly, letting the sticky vinyl pull at my jacket. “I want out.”
There’s a flicker of something sharp behind his glasses. Amusement? Annoyance? Maybe both.
“Out,” he repeats, as if testing the word. “What makes you think you can do that?”
I give him a grimace of a smile. “Maybe that promise they made to me that I’ll only have to do this for 10 years?”
He goes slightly pale, something I would have missed if I wasn’t this well trained; if I didn’t have extraordinary senses.
“I don’t think it has been 10 years yet, dear…” he drawls.
I know. They promised 10 years, but never quite stipulated when the starting date for those 10 years was. I’m betting on using it regardless.
When I don’t reply apart from a raised eyebrow, he returns to the point. “And what exactly does ‘out’ look like to you?”
“No more assignments. No more burner phones. No more orders in the middle of the night.” I keep my voice low, steady. “I want to disappear. Live my life without looking over my shoulder. And I want your assurance that I’ll be left alone.”
Ellis tilts his head slightly, like he’s inspecting a crack in his glass. “And why would the agency agree to this? You’re one of our best. Assets like you don’t retire, Keira. They burn out. Or they get buried.”
My lips twitch upward in a humorless smile. “I’m offering you something rare, Ellis. Peace of mind. You know I could disappear if I wanted to. You know they’d never find me. But I’m giving you an out too. Let me go, and I promise you I’ll never be a problem for you or your agency.”
His silence stretches long enough that I can hear the dishwasher clanging away behind the counter.
Finally, he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “And what will you do, Keira? Take up knitting? Open a bakery in the suburbs?”
I shrug. “Maybe. Retrain. Go to college. Find a nine-to-five. Live a quiet life.”
His laugh is sharp, short. “College? Really? Do you honestly expect me to believe that? You’ll be out in the world, a fish out of water. You’ve never known anything else.”
I meet his eyes and hold them. “Believe what you want. But my terms stand.”
The amusement fades, and something colder settles into his expression. Calculating. He taps his fingers against the chipped formica table before nodding.
“Fine. I’ll take your request upstairs. No promises, but I’ll see what I can do.”
It’s not a yes. But it’s not a no either. And I know better than to push.
Ellis stands, smoothing his jacket. Before he walks away, he pauses, looking down at me.
“You know, Keira, you could have just run. Slipped off into the night. Why bother asking at all?”
I let the corner of my mouth lift again. “Because I’m not your enemy, Ellis. And I’d rather keep it that way.”
He nods once and leaves without another word.
The moment he’s gone, I let out a slow breath and slump slightly against the booth. My heart isn’t racing, but there’s a coil of tension in my chest that won’t quite unwind.
I could disappear. Slip away into a shadow and never come back. I know it. Ellis knows it. Hell, everyone in that cold gray office tower that I’m not supposed to know exists knows it. But disappearing would mean leaving questions unanswered. And I can’t let that happen.
I don’t want freedom just to vanish into obscurity.
I want answers.
I want to know if I’m the only one.
