Chase Me

Chapter Thirteen: Card

Amo

3:00 PM

Finding a good coffee spot has never been more frustrating. By noon I had freed myself from calls made by a very overwhelmed and confused Nex. Then I began my hunt for caffeine and by three I had already gone to seven different coffee shops and had disposed of every single cup. All the coffee was way too bitter. No milk whatsoever? If I looked like a guy who would drink that doesn't mean I am. Nex would have loved that.

I unbuttoned the top button of my shirt as I walked down the street. That earned a few looks from women. This was the last chance I was giving to this damn cursed city and their damn black coffee. I pushed open the door of a shop and heard a bell ding. I stopped for a brief moment to calm myself. That fucking bell everywhere was going to drive me to murder.

A boy looked up from his place behind the counter. His messy mop of hair and pale face made him look like a high school kid. I strolled over and sat down on the bench, rubbing my eyes. "Listen. I have no idea what you have here, and I have already had it with this city and its black coffee. Give me something with more milk than water." I looked up. "Please." He was a kid, I could go easy on him.

He nodded and began working. The smell of crushed coffee beans made me look up. I watched him pour milk into machines and watched how it would froth it. He put sugar in it and stirred and when he was done he handed me, seriously, the best-looking coffee I had ever seen. No designs on top to distract you from the bad flavour, no opaque mug to hide the bad colour. I could see straight through it and when I took a sip, I wanted to pay this boy ten times the price of the coffee. It was fantastic. He wiped his forehead with his forearm. "So. How is it?"

I set it down and reached into my pocket, taking out 25 pounds and I gave it to him. His eyes widened and he backed up, hands going up. "No, sir. That's too much."

I raised a brow, then pushed the bills into the tip jar. I pointed to the coffee. "This is good stuff. Keep doing what you're doing."

He smiled and then shrugged. "I usually have the customers order for themselves which doesn't leave much room for me. I like it when they give me the power. I explore and it helps me."

I took a big gulp of the liquid. "People don't usually just try spontaneously and give you the reins?"

He rubbed the counter with a rag. "Other than you, only one other person has done that. She came in yesterday."

I nodded. "What did you make her?"

He placed the rag away and began doing the dishes. "She wanted it sweet so I made her something sweet and creamy."

I closed my eyes, enjoying the drink. "This has to be the best I've had."

He turned the tap off and faced me, eyebrows raised. "No."

"Yes." I finished the glass and passed it to him. "As I said, this is good stuff.'

He nodded. "Thank you."

I stood from my seat. "I'll be coming back here very soon."

I left and went straight to my hotel. Something was telling me to look at the tapes again, that I'd find something. Other than stress me out, they'd make me angry. How my fiancée managed to get away from me. But, regardless of what I thought of the tapes, I was feeling good about this. Maybe I'd see something I didn't before.

I set my bag down, pulled my laptop onto my lap and turned it on. I laid back in bed and pulled up the tapes. I put my headphones on and started my search. Zooming in, changing angles, speeding up, slowing down. I let my head rest against the headboard and huffed out a breath. I checked the time.

7:00 PM. Jesus. Four hours and nothing. I put my laptop down and pulled my wallet, deciding to order food.

"Mr. Griffin?" The voice said through the phone.

"I would like to order the salmon with a bottle of water."

"Right up, sir."

I took out my card and began twirling it in my fingers. I started at the piece of plastic in my hands. A piece of plastic that just because of my name and a few numbers, held so much money. Just take the plastic and go, no need to carry anything else.

Money.

No need to carry anything else.

I practically jumped from my seat and yanked my laptop back onto my lap. The tapes lay in front of me. I watched closer than I had before and I watched in anticipation and, dangerously, a bit of hope.

Bellona entered, spoke, then after some time, the front lady handed her something. I paused the clip. No. I changed the angle, then zoomed in. Still no.

I ran a frustrated hand down my face. I changed the angle to straight above and froze. I slowly zoomed in.

A slow, wicked grin spread across my face. I shook my head, thanking whatever God above was enjoying this game of cat and mouse.

There, clearer than day, the card lay flat with its numbers bare to me.

"Oh, Bellona," I whispered. "I've got you."

The door knocked and went up for my food. I immediately called Nex.

"Amo, anything new?"

"I have a credit card number I want you to trace."

"Alright. Is there a reason?" Nex asked. I heard him call another man.

"This is Bellona's card number."

A pause. "No. You didn't."

I laughed. "Yes. Track it and tell me the next time it's used. Watch it like a hawk and the moment anything changes, tell me."

"Will do."

We hung up. I enjoyed my dinner slowly, letting time tick by. When someone came to take the dishes away, I lay in bed, waiting. My fucking smile hadn't gone yet. I was letting Bellona enjoy herself doing whatever she was now, but when I got the message that her card had been used, my smile turned to a grin and I knew her time was up.

"Nex?" I asked.

"Vickie's Pasta," he said immediately. "It was used at Vickie's Pasta, twenty seconds ago."

I grinned, pulling it up on my phone. "Got it."