Power Switch (Power Play #3) - Kennedy L. Mitchell Page 0,61

I want you to pick her up and physically remove her from the room. Hell, from the damn state.”

“Understood.”

Something irks in the back of my mind as I take in our old team member. It hasn't been that long since he volunteered to stay in Austin and lead Taeler's security team, so this awkwardness shouldn’t be between us, or him and Randi. There's no lightness in his presence like there used to be. His back is ramrod straight, and not once has he looked at Taeler or Randi since he entered the room.

An uncomfortable silence settles around the room, inching up my awareness to the fact that something is off with him. Sliding my phone from the pocket of my slacks, I type out a quick text to Tank before slipping it back inside.

“Okay, well, I have to go out there and play nice,” Randi says, drawing out each word while she regards Taeler and Grem.

“I'm right behind you.”

Randi pulls Taeler close, whispering something that makes the girl groan. At the door, I motion for her to step through first, conscious of the other agent stationed on the other side. Halfway back down the hallway, the sounds of the gathered politicians and spouses reaching my ears, Randi slows her steps.

“I think you're right about Kyle, about why he brought Taeler here. And if that's the case, he's crossed a line. He and Shawn and all the other pompous pricks in DC can mess with me all they want, but do not mess with my daughter.” A blazing fire flares behind her eyes. “Those two will regret the day they forced my hand.”

Something resembling pride swells in my chest at the conviction in her words. A bit mixed with fear for the havoc she’s about to rain down, yes, but pride nonetheless. Last time she had this conviction, she was recovering in that hospital bed, and it was about how they’ve treated her and pushed her around. Now that they've fucked up and messed with her daughter, a new type of resolve has chimed through her tone. This time, without a doubt in my mind, she will find a way to make those two pay.

And honestly, I can’t fucking wait to see it. Yes, it’ll put her life in more danger, and that alone nearly scares me enough to ask her to pull back, but she's changing, and I don’t want to stop the woman who’s evolving right before my eyes. She's tougher than she was even a couple months ago. She's always been resilient, but now she's… edgy. Sharp as a knife and becoming deadly in her own right.

Which—and this might make me a demented freak—is sexy as hell.

Not that I needed another reason to be turned on by her at every turn. At this rate, my perpetual boner might be the reason for my death. Blood loss due to it all being funneled to my dick is a thing, right?

An exhausted groan rattles in the back of my throat as I sink down into the ugly-ass green armchair across from Tank. Beer in hand, I put it to my lips as I lean back, desperate to get comfortable as quickly as possible. I'm past exhausted. We all are. Even Tank, whose eyes are peacefully closed, hands folded neatly in front of him. But my best friend isn’t fooling me. He’s awake and alert to everything going on around him, even if he appears asleep.

With a mischievous smirk, I reach behind me, gripping the coarse pillow stuffed between the couch cushions and my back. With a hard tug, I pull it loose and launch it across the coffee table straight at my friend’s face. It whirls through the air, its trajectory exactly where I aimed.

Half a second before the stuffed square can whack into his relaxed face, he snatches it midair. He tosses it a few times, like he’s judging the weight, before launching it back across the room with twice as much force behind it.

“Hey,” I complain while dodging the projectile meant to decapitate me. “Mine was thrown with love.”

Tank huffs out a laugh, his chest rising and falling with a deep inhale. “Little shit.” Reaching back, I snatch the pillow off the floor and secure it behind my lower back once again. “Sarah and I don't need kids. We have you.”

My laugh reverberates inside the longneck bottle at my lips. After a long pull, I rest the glass bottom on top of my knee, spinning it as I

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