Page 6 of Exposed

I barely makeit around the corner to my government car when my cell vibrates. I’m surprised the fuckers gave me enough time to get out of sight.

I reach into my breast pocket for my cell and press go. “What?”

“You might’ve been the shit trekking through the jungles as a Ranger, but what the fuck was that? You had no chill in there. Have I taught you nothing in the last three years?”

“Fuck off, Brax,” I mutter.

I glance back as I cross the street to make sure there aren’t ears or eyes that I do not need following me. She seemed to be in a haze of confusion when I left her, which is more puzzling to me than anything I’ve uncovered on the Carter case in the last year.

Goldie Carter is the organization’s shiny new toy, and I intend to take full advantage of her.

“It’s cool, King.” Micah Emmett’s sarcasm bleeds through the line. “We all have our strengths, but this one might jump to the top of the list of fucked-up stories about you. Kingston Jennings, rattled by the young, sweet wedding planner.”

Fuck me, they’re on speaker again, probably huddled up in their car beating the shit out of each other or talking about babies and football. “I was not rattled, asswipe. I have my shit under control. But I wasn’t about to sit and make small talk about wedding mints and color schemes.”

Micah laughs at my expense. “Yeah, I doubt camo is the trending color of the season.”

“Nah,” Brax argues. “King’s wedding will be black from top to bottom.”

These two.

I’ve been working with them for almost three years since I moved to Miami. Brax Cruz and Micah Emmett might be badass special agents who have made names for themselves around the country and hemisphere, but they’re also tighter than a couple ofmiddle school girls who bond over their darkest secrets and wildest dreams.

I’m like the third wheel who doesn’t want to roll with them to begin with, but they drag me along purely for their own amusement.

“Can you assholes at least let me get to my car before you pile it on? You have a job to do, if you haven’t forgotten,” I mutter as I walk the last block to my ride.

“He acts like we don’t have his back,” Micah clips. He must pick up the phone because the volume increases twenty decibels in my ear. “Did you forget who got you to Miami in the first place?”

I beep the locks on my car. “How can I forget when you remind me every other day? Look, are you going to do your job, or are you going to sit there and gab like Trippy?”

“Speaking of Trippy, she didn’t look like she was on her deathbed last Sunday at dinner. I wonder what her doctor would have to say about that?” Micah pauses for dramatics. “I’ll ask her tonight, since my wife is her doctor. Wait until Trippy hears you’re trying to marry her off.”

“It was the best I could do.” I start the car and crank up the AC.

“If that’s your best, then you need to stick to busting down doors and writing affidavits,” Brax says.

I pull away from where I’m parallel parked on the street. “It’s not my fault every drug dealer in this part of the country knows what you shitheads look like. I did just fine and will get into The Pink this weekend.”

“I don’t know,” Brax says. “From the sounds of the audio, I’ll be surprised if you hear from her again. Once you mentioned The Pink, she didn’t want anything to do with you. She sure doesn’t trust you.”

Unfortunately, I agree, but I’m not about to tell them that. “Are you two going to do your job or not?”

“Goldie Carter is walking to her car. We’ve got her in our sights and will see where she goes.”

“Don’t lose her,” I warn. “Carter has his shit locked down so tight, I hadn’t found a way in until she ended up on the books. I want to know her every move.”

“He thinks we’re idiots,” Brax mutters.

“Oh, you’re idiots, just not the stupid kind,” I say. “I want to know every single thing about Marigold Carter.”

2

NITTY GRITTY

Goldie

“No, Marigold. He’s in an extremely urgent meeting with an impossibly important client. I’m terribly sorry. I will get him your message as quickly as I can.”

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