Page 87 of Lovely Venom
Connor
My cell phone rings, and the minute I move, all the muscles I used to fuck Raina last night ache. Twisting in the sheets sends my brain into a spasm, thinking it’s her silky skin.
But she’s not here. I woke up about an hour after the drugs wore off. I hadn’t heard from her since, and like a sap, I kept checking my phone.
The clattering doesn’t stop. Seeing it’s Shane, I answer it instead of letting it go to voicemail. “Alo? What?”
“Good morning to you, too.”
I peek at the time on my phone. “It’s one p.m.”
“You sound like you just woke up.” Shane clears his throat. “Late night with anyone special?”
His question halts my brain. “No.”
“No one, or no one special?”
“What do you want, Shane?”
“I gathered some interesting intel. Come to my office.”
I curse inwardly, my head still pounding. That can mean fucking anything.
“I’ll be there in thirty,” I say and end the call, groaning.
After a shower, I reach Shane’s office trailer, and his guard Creed opens the door. His dark eyes assess me before he steps aside.
Inside, I notice not only Shane, but GriffinandTraceandRhys. My heart drops into my stomach. My eyes narrow on Rhys, who shakes his head with the tiniest of movements.
He’s signaling that he hasn’t said anything about Raina showing up at his apartment to collect weapons shetried to kill me with, or our clean-up party after I killed two men for her.
When you say it like that...
But no one knows she was with me last night. No one named Quinlan. I think.
Sleeves rolled up and an open folder in front of him, Shane sits at his desk with Griffin leaning against the wall behind him.
I drop into the chair across from Shane, feigning boredom even as my pulse hammers in my throat. “This better be good.”
Shane flips something in the folder on his desk. “Oh, it is.”
Trace straightens to his full height, tattooed hands tucked into his trousers. His discarded suit jacket exposes a worn leather shoulder holster. His expression is as blank as ever. Rhys rocks on his heels, fingers tucking strands of hair back into his man bun.
It becomes clearer by the second that this might very well be an intervention. They know about Raina, that she was DEA, and that I fucked her. What the hell else do they know about her? And why is the hair on the back of my neck standing up?
I should have known another shoe would drop. If Shane has more intel on Raina, I hope it’s something I can use as leverage to figure out who sent her to kill me. Or keep her.
Griffin squeezes his phone. “Get to it, Shane.”
My brother leans forward. “I have more details on the woman whose hair was in that comb.”
Fuck.At least my intuition isn’t shot.
“Raina?” My fingers drum against the chair’s armrest as I play dumb. “Aye?”
Shane pushes the file toward me with no expression on his face. “I kept a few strands to do some moredigging.”
I sit back and glance at him. “You have nothing better to do?”
