Chapter 3
The store had several roaming guards, care of the thieves who attempted to steal a coffee maker, an oven and the latest heist was to take a 20-inch TV from the display. Keaton thought it was hilarious they thought they could pull that off.
He walked down the small appliances section where coffee machines, blenders and juicers were shelved. Keaton couldn’t help but get sidetracked by a black coffee maker. He wanted to buy one for Lily’s father. Mr. Morgan’s generosity should be compensated.
“Are you gonna buy that?” an elderly woman said.
“No, I was just–”
The elderly woman walked towards the shelf to put the coffee maker into her cart. “It’s a lovely thing isn’t it? It caught my eye too.”
Annoyed by this, Keaton smiled and allowed the elder woman to escape with the apple of his eye. He got back to searching for the Client, wishing that Olivia could have provided a way to contact Client to make things easier for him.
Remembering the details mentioned he was seventeen, he snapped his fingers and went to the devices section. He strode towards the consoles and portable devices, passing be teenage boys crowding around the latest horror game demo stand.
Keaton spotted a lonely teenager in a reversible hoodie by the game discs section. He smirked and cautiously went around the shelf to block the boy’s path.
He stood at the end of the shelf, tilting his head to examine the boy’s face under the hood. “Finley Bennett?”
“Who’s asking?”
“Olivia Mesa sent me.”
“About time,” the boy said. “What took you so long?”
Keaton studied the boy’s features now that Finley walked closer. Blue eyes and chestnut hair, a mole on his cheek. Now that he confirmed Finley matched the photo, the next step was to escort him to the train station.
Keaton placed an arm around the boy. “Walk casually, think of me as your dad.”
“Cool, I never knew my dad.”
“Do you know if you’re being followed?” Keaton asked subtly, his eyes roaming the rest of the store for potential threat.
“I don’t think so. No.” Finley shrugged.
“Where was the last place you were spotted and do you know who’s chasing you, Finley?” Keaton kept his eyes peeled, a fake smile on his face as they walked down the aisle.
“My friends just call me Finn,” Finn said.
“That’s not my question.”
“Well, you asked a shedload of questions and I just couldn’t process it, y’know?” Finn gawks at the exit where several men pretend they were interested in the TV sets but were actually blocking the way out.
Keaton gripped his hoodie, steering him to walk another direction. He pushed Finn behind the blender shelf. “Can you drive?”
“Drive? Yeah. License? Nope.”
Kids these days, he thought. Keaton handed his car key to the teenager. “There’s a pick-up truck parked upfront. When I distract those guys by the door, you run, and you get ready to drive.”
“Cool–”
Keaton lifted the teenager by the collar of his shirt. “No, not cool if you leave any scratch in her new paint job. You got me?”
“Geez, ‘kay, what a grouch,” Finn mumbled.
They parted ways. Keaton went by the cashier where the elderly woman had the purchased coffee maker in a box, along with the other appliances she bought. She smirked at Keaton, almost as if they were rivals who’d been pining for said coffee maker for months. He wished she’d dropped dead of old age but she just gave him an idea.
“Need any help?” he offered.
“You wish,” the elderly scoffed and waved to the men by the exit. “Excuse me, could you gentle lads help put these in my car?”
The men nudged each other before complying to the elderly woman’s request. Keaton nodded at Finn as soon as all three men left their post. They casually walked towards the exit.
“Nice, you have your mom as backup?” Finn said as soon as they were outside.
Keaton didn’t understand what he felt, but he knew he wanted to kill Finn in one hundred and one different ways just for that comment. He snatched the keys from the teenager.
“Whoa, hey, I thought I’ll drive!”
“Not anymore.” Keaton got into the pickup truck. “Get in.”
Finn’s shoulders slumped as he ran to the other door, putting his seatbelt on. “You change your mind like my ex’s daily wardrobe change.
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