Page 65 of Cyclone

The instincts that screamed it wasn’t random.

When I finished, River was silent for a beat, his expression turning grimmer by the second.

“You sure?” he asked. “You sure it wasn’t just a tourist with bad manners?”

“I’m sure,” I said firmly.

“I know what a tail feels like. This wasn’t some guy checking me out.

This was a pro.”

River swore under his breath and scrubbed a hand down his face.

“You think it’s CIA-related?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “Maybe Vance is reaching out behind those prison walls.”

“But I disappeared, River. I disappearedfor a reason.

If someone’s found me now...”

I trailed off, swallowing hard.

“If they found me, they’re not here for a reunion.”

He stared at me a second longer, then pulled out his phone and hit a speed dial.

It barely rang once before the other side picked up.

“Cyclone,” River said, his voice clipped.

“You need to get to the office. Now.

It's Jude.”

He hung up without waiting for a response.

I sucked in a breath, my hands curling into fists at my sides.

“I didn’t want to pull him into this.”

River gave me a look.

“Tough. You’re his life now. You think he’s gonna sit this one out?”

I didn’t answer.

Because deep down, I knew he was right. I just wanted to keep him safe.

Less than ten minutes later, the front door slammed open so hard it rattled the windows.

Cyclone stormed in, wild-eyed, scanning the room until he found me.

He crossed the floor in three long strides, grabbing my face between his hands, searching me like he thought I might disappear.

“You hurt?” he rasped, his voice breaking.

“No,” I whispered, heart twisting at the raw panic in his eyes.

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