Page 5 of Room Nine: Masters of Control

“I assume so. I haven’t been in there yet, but she was hopping around, banging herself against the door. She’s been quiet since you rolled up, so expect an ambush when you open the door.”

I sneak a peek at my face, my eye already a gorgeous shade of blue. “Fuck.”

“There are peas in the freezer, Diva.” Dem laughs and shakes his head.

“Grab a bottle of water for her while you’re at it.” O’Dell takes off his holster and pulls the knives strapped to his thigh out of their sheath. “I’m going in.”

I slap the bag of peas on my face and grab the water, walking toward the bedroom as O’Dell says in his deep baritone, “Settle down, Cupcake, or I’m going to tie you spread eagle to the bed.”

I walk in behind him with a big smile on my face. “Mmmm, spread eagle. Can we do that anyway?”

She flops down on the bed, her eyes narrowed on me. “How’s your eye?”

“You’ve got a beauty of a right hook.”

“You should try my left.”

My smile turns wolffish as I let my eyes trail over every inch of her. “Are you offering me a taste?”

“Come near me, and I’ll detach you from your nuts.”

O’Dell sighs. “That’s enough foreplay. What’s your story, Kyra?”

Using her name takes the wind out of her sails. “What?”

“You just blew up three months’ worth of surveillance, so start talking about who you are and why you did what you did.”

“Surveillance? Are you telling me you’re not employed by that asshole?”

“Bobby Lash? How do you know him?”

She huffs. “Are you going to answer one of my questions?”

“No.”

“Can you at least untie me?”

“Are you going to continue to fight us?”

Her eyes slide my way, and I swear there’s a sparkle behind them. God damn. Everything about this woman turns me on. “I’ll be good—for now.”

O’Dell motions to me.

I push her backward, her bound ankles coming off the ground. Untying them first, I then roll her over, working on her cuffs at the same time putting my mouth near her ear. “I wish we’d met you under any other circumstances. We could have had a lot of fun.”

“Knock it off.” O’Dell rolls his eyes, his massive arms crossed over his chest. “Spill the deets, Kyra.”

She sits up, and I hand her the water. Taking a quick drink, she fills her mouth with water and casts her blue eyes in my direction, as if she’s contemplating spitting at me. I stay close, my lips curled in a small smile, silently daring her to tempt me into a good time.

Swallowing, she moves her eyes over to O’Dell. “Bobby Lash is a human trafficking piece of shit.”

“We know that. How do you know that? Or more importantly, who do you work for?”

“Work for?” She shakes her head. “I’m a bartender at night and a receptionist for a mid-sized company during the day.”

“Then why have you been casing Bobby’s shit shack for the last two weeks?”

Her eyes shift from me to O’Dell and back to me. “Who are you?”

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