Page 132 of Possession

“We have a meeting before dinner with my boss at the DEA, my contact at the CIA, and Micah. It’s the only time we can safely meet before we head back to California tomorrow.”

Her face instantly falls the rest of the way into a frown.

I pull her to me tighter. “You okay?”

She sets the hairdryer on the counter and turns in my arms. Her touch on my bare chest where she fits herself in my open shirt is enough to make me cancel all plans.

Fuck the CIA, the DEA, and the cartel.

I want to lock her up in this room and throw away the key.

When I lift her chin to force her to look at me, I pull her lip from between her teeth. “If we’re going to do this, I have to know what you’re thinking all the time. What’s wrong?”

“Your boss and this person at the CIA … they know about us?”

“They know everything, baby.”

“Do they feel the same way about me that Micah does?”

I narrow my eyes. “What do you mean?”

She looks away and focuses on her fingers that dance on my skin. “Micah doesn’t trust me—I’m sure you see it too. It would be nice to know how the rest of them feel about me before this meeting.”

I shake my head. “Micah is intense. I’m not sure he trusts anyone.”

She flattens her hands on my abs and tries to push away. “Well, then he really doesn’t trust me.”

I pull her to me and force her to look at me. “Why do you think that?”

Her eyes flare. “Oh, hubbalicious. I don’t think—I know. He said so in the bathroom last night.”

My eyes narrow. “What the hell did he say to you?”

“I get it, given who my dad is. I mean, who can blame your partner for looking out for you?”

I can only imagine what Micah said. He has no chill and spouts what he feels without thought. I can’t keep the irritation out of my tone. “What did he say to you?”

“It’s not important right now. My last name is Alba. Like I said, I get—”

“No, you don’t get it, and neither does he. Micah doesn’t get to pick who I trust. He knows you on paper, that’s it. I’ll take care of him and the rest of the people I work with. Don’t worry.”

“I don’t want to create a problem. Micah caught me off guard. I just want to know if the rest of them felt the same way so I can prepare.”

I pull her mouth to mine, if for no other reason than to remind her how I feel. When I finally let her go, I keep her close. “Be honest. How do you feel about your father?”

My question surprises her, and her tone dips. “You know how I feel.”

I shake my head. “I want to hear it.”

“I hate him,” she spits. “I hate him more as time goes on. I was numb in the beginning, but every day that I’m with you, even living in Damian’s house, my revulsion for him grows. He knew exactly what would happen to me. Anyone willing to do that to their child deserves worse than arrest.”

“He’ll never hurt you in any way again. I’ll make sure of it.”

“No, he won’t. I had no idea he was capable of that. I will never trust him.”

“I’ll take care of Micah, Carson, and Tim. I need to make sure you’re prepared to handle this, the dinner tonight, and when we return to San Diego now that you know everything.”

She’s not hesitant any longer. Her response is quick and firm. “If it means helping you, I’ll do anything. You deserve to know who killed your brother. I don’t want to be like my father, and my mother is no better. I refuse to look the other way just to benefit from a cushy life supported by illegal activities.”

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