Page 154 of Possession

Shit. What does that mean? “Okay.”

“Go,” he demands. “And don’t leave his side.”

When I take the last step, I forget all about trying to keep my shit together, no matter what I promised government agents in the backroom of a Manhattan bar that I would not do. If only I knew what Spencer was saying.

This isn’t nothing. This isn’t just me feeling off because Rocco left to deliver the down payment. It’s selfish, but I don’t want him anywhere near the Jackals. I’m desperate and anxious about the choice he has no clue he’ll have to make tonight.

It feels like a marathon by the time I get to the open double doors of the office where Brax is sitting behind the desk frowning at his laptop.

“Hey.”

The moment his eyes shift to me, they narrow, but just slightly. No one would see it but me, especially over surveillance. He sits back in his chair and echoes my greeting. “Hey, yourself.”

I don’t waste another moment. I do what I have done so often since we got back from New York. Hell, I did it when I thought I was Mrs. Boz Torres.

By the time I get to him, he’s turned and widened his legs for me. I drop my book to the desk and go straight to him. With one hand on my ass the other snaked around the back of my neck, he pulls me to him when my lips land on his.

My fingers dig into his skin.

He feels it.

I pull my lips away from his to drag them across his jaw to his ear. My words are barely a breath for no one but him to hear. “Something’s wrong. It’s Spencer. He was talking to someone on the phone in the main hall just now.”

Brax is better than me, but he would be. He’s a professional and has been doing this for two years.

He fists my hair enough to pull my face from his just enough to look into my eyes. “You’re in the mood. Do I need to fuck you before dinner?”

My teeth sink into my bottom lip. For the first time since we’ve become this, I’m too nervous for him to do anything to me.

But we do need privacy.

All I do is nod.

I stand to move, but he claims my hand tightly as he grabs his cells from the desk where they were sitting in front of him. He never looks away from me as he pulls me to the bedroom. When the sound of the lock clicks on the door, I pull my hand from his and rush straight to the bathroom. The need to distance us from the cameras overwhelms me.

I drag my hands through my hair and turn when he closes the doors behind him. My whispers become desperate with every additional word that tumbles from my lips. “I’m sorry. It’s probably nothing. I just couldn’t understand what he was saying. He was different, but he didn’t see me. I thought I could do this, but every little thing has me freaking out. Then he told me to come to you and not leave your side. Something is wrong.”

Brax listens to me, but he’s also focused on his cell. He’s tapping away at the screen, his focus zeroed in on whatever he’s looking at.

“I’m sorry,” I repeat. I can’t control the tremble in my tone as I pace back and forth in front of him.

The next thing I know, Spencer’s voice fills the room. I rush to the phone to see the surveillance of him just a few moments ago when we crossed paths.

I listen, still not understanding anything more than I did a few moments ago.

All I can do is focus on Brax’s face. His laser-focused expression is intense as he takes in the words that are foreign to me. Finally, the scene I just witnessed ends as Spencer rushes off down the hall.

“Brax,” I whisper even though there’s no need to. “Please tell me I’m freaking out for nothing.”

He barely has a chance to angle his dark, troubled eyes to mine when his attention is drawn away again. He pulls his second cell from his pocket—the one I now know is his direct line to the CIA and DEA.

He scans the screen.

His frown deepens.

“What is it?” I hiss, my heart speeds frantically to a level unhealthy for any human.

He sets both phones on the counter next to us and claims my face in his big, warm hands as his intense gaze lands heavy on me. “Your father and Ed Decker teamed up. They don’t buy the fake-dead-cop story since they didn’t hear anything in the news about it when it happened. That and the fact they haven’t seen or heard from Nic in days. They suspect me. Alamandos confirmed I was told to bring him in. But, baby, I had orders not to kill him, and now he’s missing.”

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