Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 139147 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 696(@200wpm)___ 557(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 139147 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 696(@200wpm)___ 557(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
“I’m not saying you aren’t smart. Don’t read into that. But, Raye, I lived on the streets. You gotta know I know what I’m talking about.”
He so did.
“Maybe we can chill this out or move it to the bedroom, or turn on a light and sit down and chat, because the way this is going down, I feel like a naughty child getting a talking to from her principal,” I suggested.
“I’ve been sitting for the last hour, having no other choice but to sit and wait for you to come home, because the tracker we put on your car said it was parked and immobile at a lot near Sky Harbor. As far as I know, you had no reason to be there. And when our guy Brody hacked into their security cameras, you were nowhere to be seen. Fortunately, you and your girls showed about five minutes later. But do you feel me?”
I felt him.
And I was impressed they had a hacker who was that good.
Wow.
However…
“You put a tracker on my car?”
He shook his head. “Babe, seriously. Read the Rock Chick books.”
“I’m not sure I’m down with you tracking me, Cap.”
“We had a lead with that tracker on your car, Raye. Without that, you’d vanished without a trace.”
My breath was escalating. “You should have told me.”
“You’re right, with how you and me are now, I should have. How we were when I did it, you’d think I was a creeper.”
“When did you do it?” I asked curiously.
“The night I broke in.”
Whoa!
If he wasn’t him, total creeper.
I opened my mouth, but he got there before me.
“And I’ll remind you, the first time you laid eyes on me, I’d just pulled a pedophile off you after he’d grabbed you and yanked you in his house. So be pissed and get over it. I knew you were the one, I also knew you were into some crazy shit, so I took precautions.”
My breath regulated.
Because, okay.
Honestly?
I couldn’t get ticked about that.
“Do you have a tracker on your car?” I queried.
“Yes, and my phone is tracked. Fuck, Lee would have chips embedded in our skin if he thought that extra measure of caution would save our asses if we had trouble.”
The perfect segue.
“We need to talk more fully about what you do.”
He shook his head and stood. “You’re not gonna hijack our discussion with one about my job. You don’t get to play the worry card right now.”
“I actually wasn’t worried.” I thought about that and amended, “I was only slightly worried. You have it going on. I still want to understand what your job entails.”
“Great, we’ll talk about it after I fuck you in the morning, but now, Raye, I need assurances you get me. I don’t wanna relive the last hour, dragging Brody in, putting Liam and Knox on call they might have to move out. Not ever again.”
Shit, I’d blown it twice that night.
“I messed up,” I admitted (or, repeated, though I wasn’t going to point that out). “It won’t happen again. You have my assurances. And anyway, we’re definitely out now. We believe we’ve identified a major player. We’ll feed it into the pipeline, then we’re pulling back.”
Cap made no reply.
“Do you need to call Liam and Knox and tell them they can stand down?”
“I did that when I saw your car was headed home.”
“Are you still mad at me?”
“No.”
Well.
Look at us.
It was iffy there for a bit, but we got through that without too much drama.
So I asked, “Can we go to bed now? I’m in a bad mood.”
“You’re in a bad mood?”
“Yeah. The Angels are out on this sitch, which means we have to wait and hope. And it’s less of a crushing bummer to know those women are experiencing whatever they’re experiencing and lost to the people who care about them when you’re trying to do something about it. As you know I know all too well, waiting and hoping sucks.”
“You’re in a bad mood,” he repeated, but it wasn’t a question this time.
“Well…yeah. Because, again, waiting and hoping sucks. Though, since you’re action man, and you probably don’t experience it often, barring tonight, perhaps I should stress, waiting and hoping really, really, really sucks.”
“You’re in a bad mood,” he said yet again, but this time explained why he was doing it. “And you didn’t get up in my shit when I confronted you.”
Ah.
At that, I moved all the way to him and put both hands on his chest.
“Although I commend you for the sinister waiting-in-the-dark move, I think you missed it, honey. I leveled up on maturity a few days ago. I’m all about communication and talking things out. Not acting like a brat.”
“I know when you can act like a brat,” he replied.
This was interesting.
“There’s a time I can act like a brat?”
“Yeah.”
“When?”
“Right now.”
Then he did the shoulder-in-the-belly move, I was up in another fireman’s hold, and not long after, I was bouncing on the bed.