Page 42 of Furever Loyal
“No, maybe not,” he admitted. “And all these years later, he finally gets his revenge.”
“What are the odds he leaves it at that?”
“Few and far between,” Kincaid said without any hesitation. “We’re in big shit here. They think you’re in on it, that you’ve been trying to help me cover it up. I don’t know how long they think they can hold you, but I’d assume they’re gonna terminate your contract with us.”
“If that’s all they do to me, I’ll be fine,” she said. “I can live. What about you?”
He shrugged. “I’m alive for now. That’s something.”
Finally, he looked up at her, and through the swelling of his face, she could see the shame in his eyes. “I’m sorry I got you involved in this, Haley. I should never have done that. This was my problem to fix, and now I’ve dragged you into the middle of it, and you’re going to pay the price.”
“Money isn’t an issue,” she assured him. “This job has paid me extremely well. I could retire and not have to worry. The hit to my pride and ego is recoverable.”
Kincaid looked at the cell doors and the inky darkness beyond the faint cell lights. She followed his gaze but saw nothing. He lifted a hand and crooked a finger at her. Curious, she dropped to her knees, putting her face on the same level as his.
“Make sure you don’t drop any hint you know the truth about us,” he whispered, speaking so softly she struggled to hear all the words and her brain filling in the blanks.
“I won’t,” she assured him, wondering why that was a big deal.
Her face must have given her confusion away because he kept talking.
“Not everyone in Ursa is loyal to Kaelyn,” he explained. “Those who aren’t would take the fact that you know, and twist it against you, and her. I…I can’t be sure what they would do to you if they found out you knew. So just don’t tell them. Okay?”
She nodded, the true depth of the situation she was in starting to dawn. It wasn’t just the accounting contract that she had to worry about being terminated. By the sound of it, if she didn’t play her cards just right, Haley’s life could be in jeopardy as well.
How the hell do people like this operate without the government intervening? They can’t just kidnap citizens and kill them, without anyone noticing…Can they?
She hated to admit it, but it seemed they could. None of the shifters she’d met seemed to be an imbecile. They wouldn’t risk killing her if they weren’t absolutely certain they could get away with it.
Haley felt cold fear slither its way into her belly, coiling around itself as it prepared to strike, sinking its fangs deep, and paralyzing her. She was trapped underground in a cell meant to prevent people like Kincaid from escaping. If someone decided this was to be the end of Haley Menard, there was precious little she could do to stop them.
“I understand,” she said, at last, her eyes searching the darkness outside of the cell for any movement, any telltale sign they were coming for her at last.
“Truly, I am sorry,’ Kincaid repeated. “I thought I had more time…”
“It’ll be okay,” she said, surprising herself. “We’re not done yet.”
Reaching out through the bars, she stroked his skin some more. Her fingers found his shoulder, then glided down that, across the exposed skin, until she found his wrist.
Kincaid turned his arm over slowly, and she placed her hand in his. Giant fingers wrapped around hers, linking their hands in a comfortable, easy touch. Shivers ran up her arm at first, standing every hair on end, but those were quickly beaten aside by the warmth of his grip. Everywhere his skin touched hers, heat started to transfer, making its way up her forearm, through her bicep and shoulder before slowly spreading out into her core.
Eventually, Haley lifted her gaze from where they held hands. She found his eyes waiting for her, the gunmetal blue softened and pooling, like butter slowly melting. His soul yawned open, sucking her in as his defenses gave way.
Haley wasn’t sure she could have fought it. Or if she even wanted to.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
21
“For what?”
She reached out, resting her other hand on his shoulder, uncurling her fingers so she could gently brush them against his cheek, mindful of the bruising.
“For doubting you,” she said, watching his face, their eyes still locked together. “For being rude to you. This is kind of all my fault.”
Even in her own mind, she had a hard time following the twisted logic to come to that conclusion. She’d only been doing her job, but right then, in the moment, she felt guilty for bringing all this upon him.
And just what could you have done differently? You’re only feeling that because you have a measure of his character now. You didn’t have that before.
