Page 21 of Wilde and Deadly

“And maybe that’s because you can’t get through a single mission without burning bridges. Ever wonder if that’s why they picked me over you?”

Direct hit. Davey saw it instantly—the flicker of pain in Cade’s eyes, the tightening at the corners of his mouth. For half a heartbeat, the arrogant mask slipped, revealing raw bitterness beneath.

Davey almost felt bad.

Almost.

Then Cade’s expression hardened again, sharper and colder than before. “At least I don’t let my emotions cloud my judgment.”

“Because the only emotion you’ve mastered is being pissed off,” Davey shot back.

“You want to see me pissed off? Keep pushing. See what happens.”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Elliot cut in, stepping between them. He pressed a hand to Davey’s shoulder and Cade’s chest, giving them both a hard shove. “This isn’t productive.”

“Aw, let ‘em whip their dicks out,” Sabin chimed in and reached into his desk drawer, withdrawing a ruler. “We can measure. Course, I ain’t participatin’. Don’t wanna embarrass y’all too bad.”

Davey shot Sabin a scorching glare, but it only made the Cajun’s grin widen. But it was enough of a distraction, allowing common sense to prevail. He couldn’t let Cade goad him into a fight, not here in front of everyone. It would only further undermine his authority, which was precisely what Cade wanted.

He backed up a step. “I don’t have time for this.”

Cade’s face flushed red, his eyes flashing with barely contained rage. For a moment, Davey thought he might actually take a swing at him like he had at Christmas. Part of him almost wanted it—an excuse to let loose some of the frustration and anger boiling inside him.

But he couldn’t.

He was the leader now, and leaders didn’t lose control like that.

He took a deep breath, forcing his fists to unclench. “This conversation is over. I’ve got work to do.”

He turned his back on Cade, a deliberate dismissal that he knew would sting. As he strode toward his office, he heard Cade’s parting shot:

“You’re going to regret this.”

A warm weight pressed against his leg. Luka. Silent, steady, and unwavering. The Malinois nudged his thigh, then sat at his feet, his presence grounding in a way nothing else was.

Davey exhaled slowly, his fingers threading through Luka’s thick fur as he let the worst of his frustration drain away.

“Well, that was entertainin’,” Sabin drawled from behind him. “You two should charge admission next time.”

“Shut it, Cavalier,” he growled, but there was no real heat behind it. He straightened to find them all gathered in the doorway—Sabin, his brothers. “Show’s over. Back to work. Pull up Rowan’s tracker. Let’s figure out where she’s headed.”

Sabin patted his shoulder. “Don’t you worry,mon ami. We’ll find your femme fatale before she drives you completelyfou.”

Davey shook his head, exasperated but grateful beneath it all. “Too late, Sabin. Way too fucking late.”

Sabin obediently—for once—returned to his station, but Dominic approached, his earlier teasing replaced by genuine concern. “You good?”

Davey ran a hand through his hair. The confrontation had left him drained, the ache in his leg more pronounced than ever. “I’m fine. Cade can go to hell.”

“You know he’s not going to let this go, right?” Elliot said quietly, shutting the door and leaning back against it.

Davey sighed, sinking into the big leather chair behind his desk. “I know, but I can’t worry about him right now. We need to focus on Rowan.”

Dom perched on the edge of the desk. “About that... maybe everyone has a point, and you’re not the right person for this.”

Davey’s gaze snapped up, frustration flaring again. “Jesus, not you, too.”

“Hey, I’m just saying,” Dom said, lifting his hands in surrender. “Would it really hurt to let someone else take point? She did tie you up with Christmas lights last time you were alone.”

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