I tense. She feels it. “A job.”
“What job?” Her voice is soft, curious.
“My boss wants us to follow someone.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s a bad man.”
Her arms tighten around me. “Bad how?”
“His group,” I start, choosing my words, “they’re involved in organ sales.” I wince at how unnatural it sounds.
“Organs? As in… human organs?”
“Yes, Angel.”
I hear her audible swallow through the mic. “And you’re just going to follow him?”
“To start with,” I tell her. She waits. “We mighthave to rough him up a bit.”
Our bikes stop at the edge of a high street. We’re not in London anymore—the ride’s taken us to Guildford, Surrey.
Before Emily and I can say more,hesteps out of the building. Kevin James.
He’s not expecting a tail, which means he doesn’t clock us. His eyes skim right over, seeing nothing unusual. And why would he? He and his crew don’t know we’ve been watching.
Emily’s harsh breaths fill my helmet. I give her thigh a reassuring squeeze before we take off again, following the car Kevin gets into.
We trail him to Twickenham—to the hospital, which we’ve realised is one of the places they’re stealing organs from. Some of them, anyway. This part’s the easy bit.
We leave the bikes a few roads away and follow on foot, keeping a good distance. Emily’s hand is locked tightly in mine. I’m not sure who’s holding tighter.
He comes back out less than twenty minutes later with a medical box. His eyes scan the area—he’s more alert now—but he still doesn’t notice us.
Then we’re on the move again.
This time, the stop is at a warehouse.
Bingo.
“What are we doing here?” Emily whispers, tucked out of sight beside me.
“This is where the real illegal shit goes down, Angel.”
She’s taken off her helmet, her chocolate-brown hair frizzy and wild around her head. She pins a glare on me.
“Since when do you care about illegal activities?”
Hmm. Fair point.
“Since these particular activities involve cutting organs out of perfectly healthy people.”
She gasps, eyes widening. “They don’t just take them from the hospital?”
Tyler shakes his head. “No. They cut the organs out while they’re still alive—not that they stay that way for long.”
Emily’s skin turns a little green beneath her usually warm complexion. “Why not go to the police?” she whispers, looking between us.