Page 65 of Savage Revenge

The two men look at each other, then back at me. For a second, I’m afraid that Cash is pissed, but then he surprises me once again.

“What do you want to know, kitten?”

I shrug and hold my hands out, not really sure what I want to know. “Has that phone been dusted for prints? Our fathers’ history as enemies is well-known in Nevada. Could someone be trying to set up my father?”

Neither of them looks convinced, but Beckett looks at his brother. “I don’t know any of Dad’s other enemies, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t have any. I suppose we could have the phone tested. Cassian’s team has the tools to do that.”

Cash rubs his chin, a thoughtful look on his face. “I wonder if Elliott Carver would know of any problematic people other than Kingston.”

I tense when I hear Elliott’s name. I shouldn’t, but for some reason, guilt washes over me. And of course, Cash doesn’t miss a thing.

“Why did you wince? Do you not like Carver or something?” he asks curiously, his eyebrows pinched.

I lift my shoulders and try to look as nonchalant as possible. “No, he’s fine.”

Does Elliott wonder why I blew him off? Will he still want to go out once I’m back home? The thought of spending time alone with him no longer holds any appeal.

Because of Cash?

Of course it is. I’m dick-sprung on the man. Every other guy I fuck after him will be a disappointment.

“He’sfine?” His gaze narrows. “How so, kitten? Because when I went and saw him and mentioned your name, he thought you were pretty fuckingfine, too.”

Red flags.

Big huge red flags.

With sirens.

And horns.

“He said that?” A week ago, I probably would have loved knowing that Elliott Carver said something nice about me.

But I’m not the same woman I was a week ago.

“Does it matter?” His voice is low and deadly, and even Beckett looks slightly alarmed.

“No,” I answer quickly. Too quickly.

Cash stares at me for a long moment, his gray eyes piercing into me like a knife. As if something dawns on him, his eyes widen a tiny bit. Barely enough to see it if I hadn’t been looking.

“I went and saw him the night you were supposed to go out on a date with some random fucking guy,” Cash remembers slowly. “And when I was in his office, he told me he got stood up. No call, no show.”

Shit.

This is so bad.

The vein in his neck races, and his jaw clenches so tight I’m afraid he’s going to break a tooth.

Cash is going to detonate.

“Were you supposed to go out on a date with Elliott Carver that night?”

“Cash—”

“No,” he snaps. “Answer the fuckingquestion, kitten. Were you planning to go out with him? Was he the motherfucker you hoped you’d be getting fucked by?”

He pushes off the edge of the counter, crowding me, his nostrils flaring. And even though he’s twice my size and probably five times stronger, I’m not afraid that he’ll hurt me. He might spank my ass, but he won’t actually harm me. I have a feeling anyone else is fair game. What is he so angry about, though?

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