Page 42 of End Game

Yet the timing never seemed right. Maybe the way things were now were how they’d always be, and he just needed to accept the new norm and move on.

Family first . . . no exceptions.

He clasped his hands behind his neck, wishing he had the strength of Thor to rip off his head and the regenerating ability of Beetlejuice to grow a new one. A better, undamaged-by-life’s-poor-choices model.

When his head remained firmly attached to his neck, he blew out a harsh sigh and tilted his head back to stare at the painted timbers above.

As soon as he finished with this case, he would set up a time to meet with Zeke. Maybe he’d talk to Reid Steele or Gage Barber about renting a block of time in the boxing ring at their Law Enforcement Training Center.

Might be best to blow off some steam before their conversation. Controlled violence was preferable to out-of-control, hotheaded violence.

Ash became aware of eyes on him. Malevolent eyes.

Slowly, he lowered his hands and began a three-sixty until he spotted the source of his unease.

Sitting on the center cushion of the glider Kayla had vacated was a laser-focused, unblinking cat.

The feline who had thrown a literal hissy, scratching fit every time he tried to check on Kayla’s injury, the night he bashed her on the head.

The cat stood, arched its back, then prowled toward him. Close enough for him to notice the scar tissue running over its hip and down its leg.

The pain must have been excruciating. Had a fire consumed one of Kayla’s properties? Or was this cat another one of her charity cases?

A memory of the first time he’d met Kayla slipped into his mind. It had been a Saturday. Phin had crashed at his place the night before, and the two brothers had stayed up late, reminiscing, drinking, and staring at the night sky.

The next morning, foggy-brained and bloodshot-eyed, they had dragged themselves out of bed for a late-morning run. As they made a circuit through Pack Square Park, Ash had spotted Liv sitting with a friend at a picnic table and had signaled for his brother to follow.

As they jogged closer, it hadn’t been his red-headed colleague who’d held his attention, but the stunning blonde at her side. With her focus on stuffing items into what he would later learn were care packages for residents of a local nursing home, he’d been able to catalog her exquisite features—high cheekbones, dimpled left cheek, delicate jawline, slender neck, and a long, curvy-in-all-the-right-places body. Though he wouldn’t have the pleasure of seeing anything below her neck until sometime later, because of the damned basket sitting in front of her, he knew with absolute certainty that he wouldn’t be disappointed.

Then her green eyes had lifted, met his for a gut-clenching moment, before they made a quick, yet thorough sweep of his bare torso, glistening with sweat. He’d seen appreciation and interest in those beautiful, bold orbs.

After he’d confirmed her ring finger was bare, he’d determined to do everything in his power to leave the park with her phone number.

Until Phin had called out to her, followed by Liv’s introduction. Every hormone vibrating with glee in his body had turned to stone as if they’d looked upon a molecular version of Medusa.

Kayla-fucking-Krowne. The lobbyist who had helped mobilize enough North Carolinians eight years ago to elect Eileen Tao as Attorney General, then lobbied for Tao’s appointment as the FBI Director.

Tao the harbinger of new forms, procedures, policies, anything to make her mark on the department.

“Is this decent enough for you?”

Kayla’s voice pulled him back before his thoughts spiraled down the death and dismemberment lane.

She stood in the doorway, with her long, blond hair pulled back in a simple ponytail, minimal makeup, and sporting a long-sleeved peach and white tee over a pair of white calf-length yoga pants. Different fluffy crew socks. This pair had swirls of pink, yellow, and white.

No one should look that good in such casual clothing. But Ash had a suspicion she’d make any outfit look amazing. And hot.

“Do you want to talk out here?” he asked. “Or somewhere else?”

“Since you’re here in an official capacity, how about we move to my office.”

He gave her a quick nod. “Lead the way.”

Crispy jumped off the glider and trotted after her mistress, her regal back straight, and left Ash to follow in their collective wake.

20

Rather than sit behind her massive glass desk, Kayla led Ash to a plump sofa and matching chair near a white marble-framed fireplace.

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