Page 45 of Rivals & Revenge

"What, do you think tech support is going to find that we can't see?"

"Like I said. He has worked miracles in the past."

I stepped forward, wrapping my arms around her, pulling her to my chest. "Connor is a strong woman. At this point, they are probably in more danger than she is." I chuckled.

Her answering laugh released some of the tension that had settled over the house.

Fuck, it felt good to hold her. The way her body melted into mine activated something primal, a deep need to protect her. I laughed internally at the thought. Tierney was the definition of a dangerous woman. Guileless—innocent in a way that drew people in. For most of them, her angelic face would be the last thing they would ever see. My inner demons purred at the thought—what a way to go.

“The mortar looks like shit,” she murmured.

"Hmm." her voice pulled me out of my dark thoughts.

"The mortar—in this picture. It looks like shit. The lines are uneven and see," she said, tapping the photo with her delicate finger. “There are tiny gaps where it's started chipping away.”

"That leaves out government buildings downtown. They can't be bothered to fix a fucking pothole, but they make sure the buildings damn near shine."

"Mmm." she hummed in agreement. "I would say the same for the high end apartment buildings. The man who owns them keeps them in pristine condition. Tight security too. Good luck sneaking a bloody woman through the door."

Her eyes flicked up to mine, a knowing smile curving her lips, and I couldn't resist leaning in and pressing a kiss to those tempting lips of hers.

"I take care of what's mine. Nothing wrong with that."

Color bloomed across her cheeks, her eyes falling back to the picture.

We would need to talk about that kiss earlier and this rising heat simmering just below the surface. The awkward, clumsy rhythm of our kiss could easily be explained by nerves. I mean, it's not every day you kiss the angel of death. But my money was on the simpler, yet more complicated answer—inexperience.

What research I had done into her had turned up no living family, no friends, colleagues, pets—just nothing. Absolutely no connection to another living being. There were times we showed up for the same job and I witnessed her fitting in with those around her, mimicking their behavior, making herself forgettable-invisible. It was a skill, one she had honed to perfection. Still, it wasn't the same as genuine interactions, relationships.

The irony was that the one area she might actually be innocent was relationships—sex. That was definitely a conversation we needed to have the moment Connor was safe. The last thing I wanted to do was fuck this up because I pushed her too fast.

My phone chimed in my pocket in rapid succession.

Jax: I found something, but I don't know what it is.

Jax: There's a layer of code over the picture. As soon as I scanned it, the damn thing tried to eat my system.

Jax: Whatever it is, it's nasty.

Me: Is there some kind of signature? A way to tell who sent it?

Jax: Maybe. I won't know until I get this decoded.

Jax: I'm on it though.

Me: Paying double if you get this one to me in about eight hours.

Jax: Consider it done.

I offered my phone to her, letting her read the chain of texts.

She handed it back to me, turning in my arms. "You have a lot of faith in him."

I nodded. "He's saved my ass more than once."

"Yours too." I added. "He's the one who gave me the pieces that added up a little too perfectly. That's why I was at the broker's house that night."

"And here I thought you were just psychic."

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