Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 114819 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 574(@200wpm)___ 459(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114819 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 574(@200wpm)___ 459(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
“This is Dev’s old man’s bike shop. They call him Fox. He sells and services bikes. Lots of people come and go all the time,” Millie explained, probably at the way Trace’s eyes glazed over at all the high-dollar motorcycles.
“What’s up there?” Trace asked.
“The office,” Dev answered, pulling at the door handle to the studio. He used his foot to prop open the door to let the two go through first. Trace motioned for Millie to precede him. Millie grinned as she passed by, clearly impressed with what she thought were Trace’s good manners. When Dev extended a hand to hold the door for Trace, he refused to budge and cocked his head for Dev to enter first.
They were in a standoff.
Trace’s no-nonsense stare spoke of some dark shit. For a moment, he’d let himself forget why Trace was there in the first place.
Bodyguard capacity.
Right.
Irritation shot through him like lava, burning fast and furious through his veins. This was his fucking life now. The brief reprieve from the mental complexities of the investigation came roaring back. Because not a goddamn thing had really changed except Cash wasn’t anywhere nearby. That pissed him off too.
Dev pushed off the door, slinging it backward and out of Trace’s hand. He had to bite back the words on the tip of his tongue. The foul language ran fast and loose through his head.
“Show him around,” Dev barked, not looking at either Millie or Trace. “When’s my first appointment?”
“About thirty minutes,” Millie said, sounding confused. But the attitude she gave reminded him of the chick he employed. Good.
“I’m gonna get ready,” Dev said, not looking back. He slammed the office door shut behind him. He needed the minute to process his anger, or he’d be barking at everyone all day.
=♥=
Cash listened to Joe summarize Trace’s text message. After all the camaraderie between the two men, Cash was surprised at how quickly things turned. They’d left not twenty minutes ago. He got the meaning behind the message after the first line but continued to actively listen until the end.
Dev had apparently had a sudden strong mood shift. The bodyguard saw the moment Dev’s attitude had taken a turn, claiming Dev was very transparent in his attitude changes. No lie there. Now his biker was shut inside his workspace, completely alone. Trace had no idea what was going on, but Millie had said Dev’s behavior wasn’t all that peculiar.
Yep, it wasn’t. Dev was an open book. Easy to read, if anyone dared to get to know him. But a person had to stay on guard. The man flipped on a dime, and spoke plainly, either through words or actions.
So the easygoing guy from last night had morphed back into the devil in the daylight hours. A hard to handle alpha male intent on leading the course of his life like an angry lion protecting his lands. Cash rose from his seat, taking his cell phone with him.
He said nothing to Joe as he typed a text to Dev. Since his heart, and his head for that matter, told him this was going to require a phone call, Cash stepped out of the apartment and into the hall.
“Why are you locked up in your workspace? What happened?” Cash sent that text then reached for the doorknob to shut the door behind him. He walked the length of the catwalk to Dev’s apartment. There were fewer recording devices in there and none inside Dev’s bedroom.
He saw the read indicator pop up next to his message then the bouncing dots drummed along the bottom of the screen.
“How do you know about that?” Dev asked. “I hate all this goddamn monitoring.”
The dots drummed again.
“I can’t even fucking pee without someone watching.” The third message showed the biker’s growing ire. “If I have to be watched all the goddamned time, you need to be the one here doing it.” Dev added. “I guess I’m just a fucking disagreeable person but I don’t give one shit about it either.”
Dev’s fingers must be flying over the little keyboard as those dots beat out their tune. Cash waited.
“Is it too late to go back to it being just me and you?” Then the next message appeared on the screen. “Can it be added to my list of conditions so I get my way?”
Cash stared at the screen, doing his best to read between the lines. Dev’s use of profanity was back in full force. And so was the frantic tone. He gave a deep sigh before winding his way into Dev’s bedroom where he dropped to his ass on the mattress’s edge.
He had to center Dev back into the investigation. To remember their shared goals. If they could get this done, then they could move on to the next chapter of their lives.
His phone rang as Cash sat there, trying to find a way to craft a calming text message to Dev. Swiping the screen with his thumb, he accepted the video option. Dev’s harsh expression penetrated Cash’s heart. Poor guy was having a hard time.