Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90685 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90685 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
“The day I join you is the day I string my balls up to a Christmas tree.”
“As fun as that sounds, it’s the only way I’ll tell you everything you want to know about what my company is doing.”
“You shouldn’t be keeping me in the dark about this. I’m your job here. I should know what you’re doing.”
I rub my chin. “If you’re my job, and I’m supposed to be doing … my job—”
He holds up one hand. “Stop.”
“Let’s go back to the house for some food. I’m starving.” That’s not a distraction tactic either. We’ve been out here most of the day, and if we head back now, we’ll be able to fit in a late lunch.
“Is there anything you can share with me?” Dylan asks.
“There is, but if you don’t want to hear jokes about me doing you, then you probably don’t want to hear about my dick either.”
I lock my shed with all the stuff in it and then head for the four-wheel drive that got us out to this end of the property, but I don’t make it before Dylan’s plea stops me in my tracks.
“Please. I’m completely helpless out here. I have no idea what’s going on, and—”
I turn to face him, and the pure look of doubt on his gorgeous features stabs me in the chest. “If I’m going to share information with you, you need to do the same.”
“Share what information? I don’t have anything that you wouldn’t have access to yourself.”
“Back at headquarters, you reacted when you found out we were following Councilman Rowling. Why?”
Dylan averts eye contact, but it’s only for a second. “It’s nothing. It just threw me that you were tailing him. He and Walker are really good friends. Or, they were. I don’t know what happened, but Rowling hasn’t shown his face recently.”
“That’s the news Saint gave me—that they’re close but don’t seem to be in contact.”
“Why were you following him?”
“Because someone hired us to,” I say dismissively.
“Not what I meant, and you know it.”
“You haven’t gone rogue enough for that information yet.”
“I’m standing here with you, aren’t I?”
“Out of desperation. There’s only one place I like to see that level of needy, and it’s in the bedroom.”
“What do you want from me? Want me to admit you were the best lay I’ve ever had? Fine. You’ve got it. Want me to promise you I’ll join your team? It’s not like I’ll have a career as a DEA agent after all this mess anyway. Just … please.”
Damn that pleading tone.
I run a hand over my head and through my short hair. It’s times like this I hate reverting back to my military haircut because the strands aren’t long enough to grip and yank out. Then again, maybe that’s a good thing. I’d probably be bald with how much stress I have to deal with in my line of work.
But none of it comes even close to hearing Dylan beg for something I don’t want to give him.
I turn to him. “We got the CCTV footage.”
“Isn’t that good news?”
“It would be if it showed anything, but it does the opposite. There were no cameras pointing to the actual lot, and other than you, there were only two cars that entered. Your victim and the shooter. Neither of them were Walker. Forensically, he wasn’t there.”
“But he was there.”
“I believe you, but having no evidence of that doesn’t help us. At all.”
“It doesn’t make any sense,” he says to himself. “What the fuck did Hale send me to find?” His eyes suddenly widen as he lifts his gaze to mine. “Hale. My CI.”
“The guy who gave you the tip?”
For the first time since he walked into headquarters and asked me for help, Dylan looks hopeful. “He’s the key. I need to go back to LA and find him.”
Of course he wants to do that. And now I need to do everything in my power to keep him here and out of danger. “Yeah, that’s not going to happen.”
The way Dylan glares at me, with his usual disdain and determination, I know there’s no chance he’ll let this go without a fight.
Chapter Nine
Dylan
Screaming You can’t tell me what to do is too immature for a thirty-four-year-old, right?
Trav glances away. “Don’t give me that look.”
“What look?”
“That defiant … Dylan look. You’re not going anywhere. End of story. Give me Hale’s details, and my guys will go find him. The best place for you is here. With me.”
He means because he can protect me from Walker, but I can’t help the way my gut clenches and then bursts with butterflies as the words fall from his mouth. His sexy, deep rumble sounds claiming and bossy, but I have to ignore the need simmering along my skin and react to Trav the way I always do: unwavering and confident.