Page 125 of Exposed

Of course, Brax didn’t listen to me and stayed. He turned on a preseason football game and settled in.

There was no way I was sitting to watch a game. I was anxious, which is par for the course lately.

I cleaned the kitchen and snooped through every cabinet under the guise of putting away clean dishes.

Because being bored and a nervous wreck are not a good combination, I did something I wanted to do the other day and went to King’s room and straight to his closet.

The first day I met him and every other time he was undercover, I would never have known he wasn’t a successful business man with millions in the bank. His suits were that sharp and they fit that well. But other than that, he’s in jeans, workout clothes, or shorts.

King is a simple man. His closet is sparse, and his section is barely half-full. The other half is empty and no doubt meant for his partner.

I started a load of laundry. I have no idea how long it had been piled in the hamper in his closet since he’s been at my place dayand night. I stripped the sheets from Laken and Willa’s rooms and tidied up their bathrooms.

For southern Florida, this is a big house that rambles on and on, even though it does ramble with wallpaper from another era.

I switched the laundry and started pool towels.

All the while, Brax watched football. I saw him make himself a sandwich when I bustled by.

It’s been almost two hours.

I’ve made a bigger mess than I started with and have three loads ready to go. I’ve also run out of patience.

I go to the family room and fall to a lumpy, floral chair the color of tree bark in Virginia.

Brax angles his dark eyes to me and mutes the game. “You okay?”

“No,” I answer quickly. “I am not okay.”

He sets his water down on the coffee table and leans forward to his knees. “This won’t go on forever. I know it feels like it when you’re in the thick of it, but it won’t. After what happened today, they’re finally talking.”

My insides tighten. That’s not what I expected him to say and isn’t the reason that I’m not okay. “Who’s talking?”

“Dex. And everyone else for that matter. Anderson Marshall being taken into custody has riled them up. The man is more important than we thought.”

I lean back into the chair. “What are they saying?”

Brax mirrors my stance and rests his feet on the coffee table. “I’m here, so I don’t know. All I know is what Tim updated me on in a quick text. They’re keeping Marshall overnight and went back to the division. But the wires that have been quiet since they went up are now alive and busy. And they’re not planning weddings or parties. They’re agitated.”

I slump in my seat. “An agitated Dex is not good.”

“It’s good for us. Desperation causes people to slip.”

“If you say so.”

Brax smiles. “I say so. You’ll be okay. King has your back, and so do we.”

“I’ve been on my own a long time. No one has ever had my back when it comes to Dex.”

“And you’ve handled it like a badass. You’re stronger than you think. I’ve listened every time you were around Carter. You might be scared, but you never act like it when it matters. Don’t question things now, Goldie. You’re playing on the right team.”

My gaze roams the room that’s smattered with a lifetime of King’s memories. At the same time, I can’t get visions of his battered body out of my head.

“He thought he needed me to get to Dex,” I say as I stare at a picture of him in a little league uniform. An older man who I now know is Don stands next to him with his arm around his shoulders. They’re hot and sweaty and … happy. I shake my head. “He doesn’t need me. And it doesn’t matter what he says, I might hate Dex, but I do know the way he operates. Roughing someone up like that isn’t his style. He likes to pretend he’s legitimate—he wants to be respected and that can’t happen when you’re beating people to a pulp to make a point.”

Brax narrows his eyes and studies me. “King is fine. He’s seen worse than Dex Carter when he was in the Army. He’s also a damn good agent. Don’t second guess what he’s doing.”

And just like that, I’m saved by the bell when the tone on the dryer plays. I push up from my chair. “At least the laundry will help manage my nervous energy. You really don’t have to stay. I feel bad you’re spending your Sunday evening here instead of home with Landyn and the kids.”

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