“This wasn’t just about Max, was it?”
“No. They also wanted me to report any illegal activities.”
“You never witnessed any,” he says confidently.
“Not directly. You guys are too good. Also, I had certain limitations as a club girl.”
“No wonder you never fucked anyone.”
“What?” My face flames. I’m sure my cheeks are scarlet.
“You never fucked anyone.”
“How do you know?”
“I know everything that happens in our clubhouse.”
“Apparently not everything,” I blurt.
“A fucking Fed. Un-fucking-believable.”
He uses the butt of the gun to rub the muscle twitching over his eye. His dark gaze never leaves mine. When I can’t take it anymore, I break the connection. I stare into the flames and try not to think about the way he’s looking at me. It’s predatory and carnal, and it’s destroying my ability to focus.
“They’ll start looking for me in the morning,” I say, breaking the tense silence.
“They won’t find you.”
“Why not?” I whisper.
“Because you’re mine now.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“I haven’t figured that out yet. I just know you belong to me.”
“If I don’t check in, they’ll send a fleet of agents to the clubhouse to look for me.” I press back into the couch and squeeze my thighs together. Is he planning on killing me? I told him some of the truth to save my ass, but it might not be enough.
“How do you usually communicate with the other Feds? Burner phone?”
“Email.”
“Email?” He arches a brow like I just suggested I use carrier pigeons. “That’s impossible. I see everything sent over the net.”
“No, you don’t.” I can’t help but feel a little smug. He’s a damn good hacker, but I’m better.
“How?”
“If I tell you, will you let me go?”
“No.”
“You’re not good at bargaining,” I say dryly.
“I don’t need to. You’re the one who’s fucked.” A slow, devilish grin spreads across his face. I’m struck by the feral look in his eyes. He’s never looked at me quite like this. I don’t know what to make of it.
“Why should I tell you anything?” I ask.
“I’ll make your death painless?” He shrugs as if he couldn’t care less either way.