Page 30 of Exclusive

This is a terribleidea, worst one I’ve had yet in my entire life, but it’s the only one I have left. And honestly, I’m done worrying about pissing her off, and Presley’s done calling each and every shot. This stops now — the guilt, sadness, and shadows that chase her, end, die, today — no matter what it costs me.

I swore to myself that taking the avenue I’m about to was not an option, ever, and there’s absolutely no doubt in my mind that Presley will be livid, but it’s time. Long overdue in fact.

I promised her I wouldn’t ever give up on her again, and I meant it. I’m doing this for that very reason I refuse to give up on her… even if that means I have to give up on “us.”

“Come the fuck on in with your noisy ass. And ya best hope, whoever you are, that you’re on fire, dying, or about to hand me lots of money!”

Okay, so maybe I did knock, or pounded my fist, a little too loudly, but desperate times call for “I don’t give a shit” measures… which is why I not only ignore his barking, but shove the door open and barge into Sawyer Beckett’s office with my fury blowing in ten-feet ahead of me.

“Sutton? What the hell’s gotten into you, boy? Beatin’ on shit, stomping in here all puffed-up, like your dick hangs to the floor; you lost your damn mind?”

“Where is she?” No time or tolerance for chit-chat, I cut straight to the point in seethed insistence.

His eyes nearly pop outta their sockets, the slight annoyance they held changing into full outrage, then just as fast, narrow to suspicious slits. “Sit your big ass down, boy. And once you get that attitude of yours adjusted, you can tell me why it is you’re asking,” he warns, while punching away at his phone.

“I’ll stand, thanks. Only planning on staying long enough to find out where Presley is, which if I wasn’t already sure you’d know, I am now. Your whole face just settled; what’d you find out on that spy-phone of yours?”

“You know what, I think I’ll stand too.” He grins maniacally, rising and coming around his desk, stepping toe to toe with me. “I like you, Sutton; always have for some reason. Because of that, and the fact I was all balls and bravado at your age too, I’m gonna give you one last chance to fix your fuckin’ tone and explain to me why it is you need me to tell you where P is. And you might wanna rethink makin’ fun of my spy-phone,” he chuckles, “since it works pretty goddamn well; seeing as how, yes, I do know where she is, and again, you don’t.”

“Whatever, just tell me where she is.” He eliminates the scrap of space left between us, and weirdly enough, when his volume lowers, it raises the intensity in his voice. “You’re not deaf, are ya, Sutton?”

“Hear just fine.”

“You dumb?”

“Not even a little bit.”

“Suicidal?”

“Nope.”

“Then. Watch. The. Way. You. Speak. To. Me.”

“Then. Tell. Me. Where. She. Is,” I clip right back, making sure he knows I can growl too. “I always give her space when she needs it, when I know where that space is. But I’m not okay with actual vanishing. She hasn’t been home, she’s not bunked up with any of the Squad or at your house.”

“You stalkin’ my kid, Sutton?”

“I’m trying to! Pretty sure I’m supposed to know where the hell she is for it to be considered stalking though, so I’m more just running around, chasing air, with the intent to stalk.”

“Why?” He inches in closer, annihilating the very fine line between “intimidation tactic” and “just plain fucking awkward,” but I don’t so much as fucking flinch.

“Because I’m worried about her. I love her. She’s mine. Mine to take care of, worry over, protect, fix whatever hurts her. What would you do if this was Mrs. Beckett? I don’t,” I shove my hands through my hair, then explode. “What part do you not get?”

“The part where you lost track of her. And why. I’ve been laying low, letting y’all do your thing in peace, because my wife is happy as hell to see P finally have something that appears to be… something, and forbid me from interfering in any way. And since I’ve been doing what I’m told, of course, gonna need you to fill in the gap for me.”

“What gap?”

“The gap between you being with her, at the state park, to standing here, not knowing where she’s at.”

I hike up one brow. “Since you’ve been staying out of it, like you were told.”

“Is that not what I just said?”

I wonder where Presley gets her stubborn streak from… can’t imagine.

“Spit it out, boy. What’d you do to piss off my Princess?”

“Actually,” I scoff, “not a damn thing. We’re fine. Great. Close to perfect.”

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