Page 119 of Filthy Little Regrets

“Get the fuck outta the way!” Tony mutters, honking again, but it’s a gridlock. These things can take forever to clear because people are stupid. The longer I sit in this car, the more I’ll worry and the worse the panic will get. I need distraction. Fresh air. Space to breathe.

I grab the handle and jump out before he can grab me.

“Shit. Cassia!”

“I’ll buy you a sub for lunch from your favorite shop,” I tell him, shutting the door on the rest of his reprimand. Jesus Christ. It’s literally one block. He and Mace act like someone is going to snipe me, and even if they were, Tony being here wouldn’t stop them. I hop onto the sidewalk and dash across the street, focusing on getting through the maze of cars without getting clipped, but before I reach the other side, thetraffic starts to move.

“Oh shit,” a guy making a dash across with me says, running the rest of the way.

I follow suit, heels hitting the sidewalk for mere seconds before I’m yanked back and tossed into a vehicle. A screech is all I get out before the rolling door is slammed and I land on a bench seat. As the air whooshes out of my lungs, I grab for my can of pepper spray attached to my purse.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. On top of everything else, I get kidnapped?

The only good thing is, the traffic is still moving relatively slow due to the stoplights. I’m not too far from Tony. Dammit. Now he’ll never let me out of his sight. Gathering my courage, I clutch the can and breathe deep. In close quarters, this pepper spray is going to hurt like a fucking bitch, but if I can hold my breath and see through it, there’s a chance I can escape.

“Relax, Cassia, you’re with friends.” Agent Smith’s condescending tone rocks into me, and panic turns to pure fucking rage.

Fire floods through my veins. I sit up straight, bat a strand of hair out of my eyes, and glare at the agent, her driver, and the guy who pulled me off the street. “Was that necessary?” I ask, cataloging my surroundings and the severity of the situation. I’m not in cuffs. That’s a good sign, right?

We’re in one of those fancy vans with near-black tinted windows, and the bench I’m on runs along the length of the van rather than across, facing two computer screens. Everyone here is in a suit. Fucking feds.

Agent Smith smirks. “What? You’re not having fun?”

“Not really,” I tell her, eyeing the guy in a starched business suit. He’s the very definition of stuffy. Clean-shaven, short hair with a side part smoothed back with gel, and anI’m better than youlook about him. He probably shits when Agent Smith tells him to.

“Something funny?” he asks.

“Only your face.” I glance at Paige. “What do you want?”

The van jerks to a sudden stop, and she scowls at the driver, who holds up his hands in apology. Her attention skips to me. “You know, your mom should have taught you manners.” She pauses, then frowns. “Oh, that’s right.”

“God, you’re such a cunt,” I tell her, crossing my arms and grinding my jaw. Fuck her.

“Hmm. I’ve been called worse, but let’s talk about what you can do for me. Where are we at with Mace?”

“I’m working on it,” I lie.

Sighing, she reaches for the handcuffs at her hips. “I didn’t want to do this, but?—”

“Motherfucker, Smith. We have a live one.” The driver stares in the side mirror, and Agent Smith turns to peer out her window right as Tony’s car cuts in front of the van. As the driver slams on the brakes, I slap my hand onto the window to keep from being catapulted off the seat. Honks blare all around us.

Mace appears, scowling at her through the window before his gaze clashes with mine. My stomach flutters. Thank fucking god. Relief is short-lived, though. This isn’t how I planned on him finding out about the FBI. His eyes narrow as he raps his knuckles on Agent Smith’s window.

“How the fuck did he find us?” she mutters to the guy in the back with me before rolling her window down. “Maccon.”

“Care to explain what the fuck you’re doing with my wife?” His tone sends a shiver down my spine.

“We’re just catching up,” she says, grinning back at me. “Cassia and I are old friends. Isn’t that right, Cassia?”

I hate her. “They yanked me off the street.”

Mace tips his head. “Sounds a lot like unlawful detainment to me, Paige. What would the ADC say?”

Paige blows out a breath. “Pretty sure the boss wouldn’t mind.”

“Is that so?” Mace glances at his phone, then holds it to his ear.

“What are you doing, Astor?”

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