Page 34 of The Shape of my Scar
Trish didn’t move. She just stared at Thane with those flat brown eyes, as if she knew something wasn’t right.
Malcolm, still oblivious, just grinned. “Good. You’ll fit right in.”
Malcolm clapped his hands. “Right! You two’ll be working close. Trish handles the day-to-day. You get what you need fromher, and she’ll let me know if you’re pulling your weight or swinging your dick. Trish will be watching you.”
Thane let his eyes trail over her slowly, lazily, from boots to collarbone. He didn’t bother to hide the smirk curling at his mouth. “Lucky me,” he drawled. “Didn’t realise I’d get a babysitter. Can I have a welcome fuck?”
Trish’s eye twitched, but she said nothing.
He stepped closer, slow enough to provoke but not enough to warrant a reaction. “You two fight often?” he asked Malcolm, eyes still fixed on her like she was an interesting bug under the microscope. “Or is this just the usual post-fuck tension?”
Malcolm barked a laugh. “She’s got a temper, our Trish. But she’ll warm up to you.”
Still, Trish stayed silent, eyes narrowed like a sniper looking down the scope.
Thane tilted his head, faux-casual. “Right, I’ll step out. Let you two settle this lovers’ spat without an audience, yeah?”
He turned and walked to the door, letting them watch him go.
He didn’t plant a bug—too risky at this point. They swept regularly, paranoid and thorough. But it didn’t matter. His listening device could pick up most of the ambient conversation within a certain range while filtering out the static.
Thane stepped out of the office, boots striking the concrete floor with quiet finality before letting out a slow breath.
The door clicked shut behind him and immediately, his ears were assaulted by a volley of foul language inside.
“Fucking dodgy, Mal,” Trish snapped, her voice sharp and slicing. “There’s something off about him. I don’t like his eyes. I don’t like the way he speaks. He’s too smooth, too fucking casual. He’s watchingeverything.”
“Calm down,” Malcolm said, his voice oily and patronising. “We vetted him. Word on the encrypted boards is his crew’s the real deal. They’ve moved dope silently for years.”
But Trish wasn’t having it. “And you believe everything you read online now? Great. Next, you’ll be getting financial tips from Reddit.”
Malcolm laughed. “We’ve got him on camera with money changing hands. The bag, the terms, his face…all of it. If he turns, we burn him. Besides, he won’t leave the compound in one piece.”
There was a pause.
Then Trish, lower now but still audible through the thin office walls. “Something’s wrong… I feel it.”
“Relax, it will be fine. Now come here and look at this.”
Outside, Thane kept walking.
He didn’t need to linger; he’d heard what he needed. The bone mic had picked it all up, too, transmitting it straight back to Lirian.
As he stepped into the cool air beyond the warehouse doors, the wind stirred his jacket.
His sensual mouth widened in a slow grin.
The game was on. And he always played to win.
Chapter 17
Thane was waiting outside the double doors when Trish finally strolled past the gates with her hands in her pockets, cigarette dangling from her mouth.
Her brown eyes slithered over him with barely veiled contempt. “Got something to handle. I’ll meet you in half an hour.”
Thane raised a brow, letting his eyes skim down her body and back up with lazy arrogance. “Thought we were attached at the hip now? I’ll tag along, keep you company.”
She didn’t stop walking. “Stay here if you prefer not to catch a bullet through that soft little head.”
