Page 58 of Saving Grace

“Wait a goddamned minute, Grace,” Matt cut in.

“I will”— I repeated firmly— “tell him as soon as I figure out the different scenarios that may play out.”

“Didn’t you just say he’s on the accountant’s list? That he’s dirty?”

“I need my access to the DEA database.”

“What if he’s in league with The Reaper?” Matt argued. “Even if he isn’t, don’t you think we have enough problems keeping you safe from the cartel’s assassin? We don’t need Holden plotting your murder as well.”

“I need the DEA files on El Segador.”

“How will that help? Are you telling me you’re going after him?”

“If I have to, yes! I’m not about to be a sitting duck waiting for him to strike.”

“Are you forgetting you’re pregnant?” Matt yelled.

“What does that have to do with it?” I challenged. “I’m as healthy as an ox according to the doctor. I haven’t even gotten morning sickness yet. I’d rather be done with this cartel or Reaper problem before I’m as big as a hippo seeing that there’s a possibility I’ll be carrying twins, no thanks to you!”

A deathly silence followed my rant, since I realized I had raised my voice as well. Matt had to go and rile me up.

I returned his incinerating glare with one of my own. With my memory bank almost at one hundred percent, I was done with being scared. I was done with hiding. I was a DEA agent who had successfully infiltrated and taken down European mobs. The Mexican cartel was a different beast, but it all boiled down to how bad one wanted to stop the influx of drugs into the homeland.

“Everyone out,” Matt said in a low voice that did nothing to hide his fury. His face was flushed with anger, and all of it seemed to be directed at me.

“Foster,” Trent called Matt’s attention as he moved to stand beside us.

“This meeting is over,” Matt told Cassie’s husband.

“I’ll follow up where the case is with the Feds,” Trent replied levelly, but I could hear the warning in his tone pressing on Matt to calm down. The sheriff split a look between us. “I trust everything is otherwise okay?”

“We’re. Fine,” Matt enunciated, his jaw clenching.

I lifted my chin, looking briefly at Trent before returning my eyes to Matt. “I’ll let you know if I remember anything else, Sheriff.”

Trent sighed and clapped a hand on Matt’s shoulder. “Later, Foster. Grace. Take it easy, both of you.”

Everyone else muttered their goodbyes and the loft quickly emptied.

Tension crackled between Matt and me, like a fuse had been lit under a powder keg about to set off a grand explosion.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Matt

It took all of Matt’s self-control not to pounce on Grace the second the last person left his loft. He had a strong desire to wring her pretty neck, but there was an even stronger urge—overwhelming actually—to fuck the shit out of her. It didn’t help that Grace had the audacity to kiss Troy in front of him.

In front of him! After he’d made it clear that she belonged to him.

“I need one thing to be clear right now,” Matt grated, barely keeping from yelling at her.

Grace didn’t say anything except stare at him straight on. His belief that he had things under control was fraying, and he started to panic. At some point during their rapidly deteriorating argument, she had moved away from him. That rattled the beast inside him.

He needed to be near her. He needed to wrap his arms around her and hold her close, never letting her go.

Matt forced his arms to stay at his sides. “Is it my understanding that you never slept with Troy?”

“That is correct,” she answered succinctly.

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