Page 62 of Savage Alpha

I have no idea how she knows, but sheknows, which has kept me in a state of perpetual panic all afternoon, my anxiety through the roof.

It’s only a matter of time now before this secret comes out, so it’s time for me to face the music. It’s officially time to wake up, pull my head out of the sand, and get down to the nitty gritty, which means no more shirking my responsibilities in IT and putting off the inevitable. It means finally going through those damn pictures and running them through facial recognition. Living in a state of blissful ignorance was fun while it lasted, but duty calls, and it’s time to answer.

Part of me wishes Avery hadn’t dropped that bomb today, of all days, because we’re supposed to be going out tonight. Javi told Madd he’s bringing his girl, which I know isn’t actuallyhappening, but it’s all Sloane can talk about as we sit in the IT hub across the aisle from one another, each posted up at our own workstations.

“I still can’t believe you jumped,” she says with a giggle, finally moving on from her endless speculation about Javi’s mysterious girlfriend. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately, but I like this new, adventurous side.”

If only she knew.

Wait, does she?

I’m so paranoid that I’m suddenly suspicious of everyone around me, reading way too much into every simple conversation and sideways glance.

“Pretty sure it was just temporary insanity,” I joke, finishing up with the security logs for the day and closing out of them. Now I have to move on to my real task; the one I’ve been dreading.

“Well I’m glad you did it, because I’m pretty sure Avery would’ve talked me into going with her if someone else didn’t step up. And I doubt Madd would’ve been happy about that.”

“How come?” I ask absently, cursor hovering over the folder of photo files in the upper right corner of my screen.

Sloane heaves a sigh, swiveling her chair toward me. “He’s been a little overprotective since we mated. I swear he’d cover me in bubble wrap if he could. But I’ve gotta live my life, ya know?”

I glance her way, and when I see the conflicting emotions written all over her face, I lift my hand off my mouse, swiveling my own chair to give her my full attention. “I’m sure he’s just scared,” Isay. “I mean, you’re a little accident prone. He just doesn’t want to lose you again.”

Her throat bobs with a hard swallow. “I know. And I love him for it, I do. It’s just… a lot, sometimes.” Her gaze flutters down to the tiled floor, the toe of her shoe kicking against it. “I don’t know.”

“Hey,” I say, drawing her gaze back up to me. I stare into her eyes earnestly, offering her a smile of encouragement. “I’m sure he’ll back off a little bit after a while. Things are still fresh for you guys.”

“True,” she agrees, nodding her head. “It’s also probably the bond itself making him a little crazy still.”

I know the feeling.

I wish I could say that, and I almost do, but then Sloane shoves up to her feet with another sigh, pushing her chair in.

“I think I’m gonna take off. I’ll see you tonight, though?”

“Yep, I’ll be there,” I reply, my pulse picking up speed at the reminder.

Sloane’s lips spread into a wide grin. “Can’t wait.” She steps over to the aisle, pausing beside my desk. “So, what’s your final wager on Javi’s girl? Blonde or brunette?”

“Mmm, blonde.”

“Same,” she smirks. “He seems like a blonde hair, big boobs type of guy.”

I subconsciously flicker a glance down at my pathetically small chest.

“See ya later, babe.” Sloane blows me a kiss, strutting away down the center aisle to leave the IT hub.

As soon as she’s gone, I swivel back to my computer and place my hand on my mouse. Drawing a deep breath, I drag the cursor up to the folder I’ve been avoiding and finally click on it, pulling up the first photo inside.

The picture quality leaves a lot to be desired. The snapshot itself is of two men I don’t recognize, leaning up against the side of the motel building chatting, but it’s so blurry that it’s difficult to distinguish their features. If the surveillance photos are all like this, my plan to run them through facial recognition is going to be a bust.

I move my cursor to the arrow and click to the next picture, pleased that this one is a whole lot clearer. Still, they’re only profile shots of the men, which will be difficult to get a match for. I click to the next, then the next, finding five similar images and scrolling back and forth through them until I decide which pictures best show the men’s faces. Then I crop them down, create a new folder on my desktop, and drop them in.

That was easy enough.

I move onto the next series of images, which features two women walking side by side. I do the same thing, finding the best images of their faces, cropping them, and moving them into my new folder.

The next few photos give me pause, because the face filling my computer screen is all too familiar. My palms go clammy, my heart beating a riot in my chest as I scroll through the pictures of Javi and another guy engaged in conversation beside his black pickup truck. He’s got a tight white t-shirt on, that devilishlyhandsome grin stretching his lips. And even though it feels wrong, I crop down a shot of that gorgeous face of his and drop it into the folder.

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