Total pages in book: 170
Estimated words: 160166 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 801(@200wpm)___ 641(@250wpm)___ 534(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 160166 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 801(@200wpm)___ 641(@250wpm)___ 534(@300wpm)
Declan breaks the kiss so abruptly I gasp in a breath. I’m still trying to catch it when he opens his red door and disappears behind it again, leaving me alone in the hall, reeling and uncertain, with the tips of my fingers at my lips.
DECLAN
She’s touched her lips three times already tonight. As I stare at the screen, watching Braelynn gripping the end of the bar and absently staring at the lined glass bottles accentuated by the bar’s dim light, apprehension consumes me. Until those slim fingers lift up and she does it again.
Every time she stops at the bar, when time waits quietly and she’s still, her thumb brushes her lower lip as she stares at the marble bar top. If that wasn’t enough of an indication she’s thinking of me, her gaze shifts to where I stood beside her a few nights ago. Throughout the evening, every time she’s stopped moving, I’m almost certain she’s thought of me. She wants this, maybe as much as I do.
There are a million reasons I shouldn’t have kissed her. Zero reasons I should have. Except for the fact that I wanted to.
My blood chills as I lean back in the chair and she leaves the bar, the tray filled with martini glasses. If she’s undercover, if she’s working for the feds, or even just an informant … what I’m about to do could not only destroy me, but also my brothers. Thoughts of my nieces and nephews I’ve barely seen flicker through my mind. My entire family could go down if I don’t figure out who’s been passing the feds information.
With a grim outlook my gaze turns from the screen, just in time for an email to come through. It’s from a throwaway address.
There’s nothing that says she should be the one who’s undercover.
The single subject line doesn’t hold any text in the body of the email. But there is an attachment. I filter through the background check and other documents he discovered, most of which I’ve come to learn this past week.
There’s nothing that hints at her being involved, but she is friends with Scarlet. Given that her father passed and Scarlet was there for her, they’re closer than I first anticipated.
The knock at my door precedes it opening and I don’t have to look to know it’s my brother.
“You might want to get in on this,” he says. Jase’s tone is somber and it captures my attention. He nods slightly when my questioning gaze meets his.
“Scarlet is only one of them.”
Pushing the chair back from my desk, I stand up, buttoning my suit jacket as if it has any place in what’s about to happen. My pace is swift and Jase follows behind me as I stride out of my office. The door closes and I lock it before heading down the hall. All the while my body slowly numbs.
She’s only one of them. There are more for certain.
Swallowing thickly, I ready myself. This isn’t the first time or even the hundredth I’ve done this and yet each time, there’s a heaviness that weighs down every step.
My heart seems to slow, as does time.
“What else did he say?” I question just beneath my breath as my brother leads me to the back room.
The music from upstairs is loud tonight, and that’s by design. The door opens with an eerie groan and I’m quick to close it and lock it behind me before I follow Jase around to the back where a shelf is moved aside. A hidden door leading to a soundproof chamber opens with a gentle push on a disguised lock.
My pulse races, fresh adrenaline coursing through my blood. The stench of piss is the first thing to hit me under the fluorescent lights. The man’s jaw cracks as Seth’s fist slams against it and blood sprays from his lip.
The man’s head sways, his hands bound behind his back in the bolted-down chair.
Many men have rushed secrets out of busted mouths in this room.
As Jase pulls a chair closer to him, to continue his interrogation, Seth steps back. His shirt is stained with blood, as are his worn jeans.
“How long has it been?” I ask him. Other than my brothers, he’s the closest approximation to a friend I have.
“Going on three,” he answers, his voice even and the man of the hour wouldn’t know it, but behind Seth’s gaze is a tiredness as well as concern.
“I’m telling you,” the man starts, before spitting up blood, “I don’t know who.” He heaves in a breath, his head still dangling. Jase lifts the man’s chin up to look in his eyes. Both are swollen, while one brow sports a gash, and the other is swollen shut.
“I’m sure there’s something you can tell us,” Jase suggests, tilting his head and urging the man to give up a name or any information that could help us uncover the rat in our midst.