Page 59 of Hunted: Season Two

He takes the offering leaving me to remain the voiceless bimbo I’m pretending to be.

Towards the back corner, we set up shop next to The Kid, with me settled comfortably between them, both men obviously on guard.

“Anything?” Nolan whispers to him as I retrieve my Mickey Mouse pen from the mini handbag that’s been hanging from my wrist.

“Negative.”

“You send them?”

His nodding is followed by me retrieving the information sheet and whispering, “How honest am I supposed to be on this thing?”

“Completely?” Mutt extends an arm around the back of my chair. “It should be protected information.”

“Should be, doesn’t mean it will be, Mr. Toretto,” The Kid less than gingerly reminds.

“I’m not calling you O’Connor.”

“What about Walker?” our boyfriend pokes back. “I could be a Walker.”

“You could be aNolan,” he possessively flirts, “which is what you and little Ms. Ripley here will both be when all this is through. Understood?”

Hungry groans thoughtlessly seep out of Kipp, “Yes, Sir.”

Despite The Kid’s moodiness, hishorninesshasn’t subsided.

And neither has mine.

And if it weren’t for the whole probably shouldn’t have an appointment full of cum thing, we probably would’ve had a quicky before meeting Nolan at the rental vehicle.

I decide it’s in my safest interest to swap minor information like the month and day of my birthday yet keep the year the same.

Mark my emergency contact information with my boyfriends’ first names but swap their last.

Use Garcia’s office address – that’s listened on his business card – as my home address.

However, in the family history section, I allow myself to actually be honest just in case something else turns up during the examination.

Having checked boxes about both my mother and father leads me to glancing over to Nolan who’s clearly watching the entire room for suspicious movement and proclaiming, “You know I just realized…I don’t know anything about where you come from.”

His attention suddenly shifts to me.

“Him,” my pen points to our partner, “so much.But you?” I can’t stop my head from tilting to one side. “Basically nothing.”

“Well…like us…he’s an only child,” The Kid tries to helpfully inform.

“Not true.” Nolan’s statement is attached to an uncomfortable wiggling in his seat. “I have a sister.”

“You have a sister?!” screeches the male on the other side of me. “Since when?!”

“Since I was born.” His small shrug is clearly indifferent. “She ran away at fifteen. Haven’t seen her since.”

“Have you looked for her?” I cautiously investigate.

“Not in over a decade.”

“Should we look for her?” The pen in my hand is gripped tighter. “When all this is over? Should we have Garcia help find her?”

“He’s already tried.”

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