her job. The only thing she really had to do was make a couple of phone calls. The few people who knew where she was, well, she’d rather they not worry that he’d done her in.
She could let them know. Maybe even send an anonymous tip to people who were better equipped to handle the monster that was Patrick Whitmore.
It would be so easy . . .
“But that’s not who I am.”
I’m doing exactly what I’m meant to do.
Besides . . . if she left, it might make it harder for a certain someone to find her when this was all done.
I’ll find you again, Dru.
She might have told him it was best if he didn’t, and she meant it. For now.
But sooner or later, she’d stop fighting to keep him out of her head.
With a faint smile curling her lips, she straightened back and started to move. This time, it was at a slower, steadier pace.
Her legs might be nothing more than noodles when she got back.
And she’d want to eat like a wolf, sleep like the dead.
Sounded like the ideal way to handle her beloved fiancé.
* * *
TAIGE and Cullen were circling around each other like a couple of angry wolves. Still. Frankly, Taylor was tired of it, but there wasn’t anything he could do.
Cullen was in a sullen state, eyeing everybody else in the room like he wished they’d just get the hell out and leave him alone with his wife.
Taige was in a dark, angry mood that he couldn’t do a damn thing about.
Taylor needed to get his ass to that grease pit that served as a restaurant—he was supposed to meet Crawford shortly.
The question was whether there would be bloodshed while he was gone.
Eyeing Taige and Cullen, he figured probably not. Taige might look like she wanted to pound her husband bloody, but Morgan just looked miserable.
His own fault, Taylor figured. After all this time, he should be able to read his wife better.
He couldn’t blame the guy for being pissed at him, and Taylor wasn’t going to lose any sleep over it. It was only going to get worse for the Morgans, too. Jillian had it in her—Taylor wouldn’t seek her out, but she’d come looking for him again. It was just fact.
It would cause some bumps and bruises for them. Taylor didn’t see any way around it, but damn if he wanted to hang around and deal with it. He didn’t much want to leave Dez here, either, but he couldn’t take her with him and she didn’t seem to want to bail.
Unable to delay any longer, he gathered up the neat stacks of his files, tucked them inside his briefcase. “I have to go,” he said, directing his words to Taige and Dez.
Taige jerked a shoulder. “Hope Crawford is holding up okay,” she said, hunched over the table, determinedly ignoring her husband.
Cullen was giving Taylor that same, determined attention—or lack of it.
Shifting his attention to Dez, he found her watching him with that familiar amused glint in her eyes.
It figured she’d find something to be amused about in this, he thought.
Crossing over to her, he skimmed his fingers across her cheek, down her neck, paused briefly to touch the scar on her neck. A smile canted her lips and she swayed closer, pressed her lips to his. “I love you,” she murmured. “You know that?”
“Yeah . . . I know that.” It was his miracle. She was his miracle. He rubbed his mouth against hers, reminded himself they weren’t alone, that he had a job to do, an agent out there with a gift inside his head that he wasn’t fully acclimated to. “I love you, too.”
Pulling back, he glanced toward the tense couple sitting at the table. “You should go downstairs. Have breakfast. Go shopping.”
“No.” Dez smiled. “If I have a yen to shop, I will. And I already had breakfast. Now, go . . . I’m sure I can handle it.”
He grimaced. Her handling it wasn’t the problem.
After another quick kiss, he headed for the door. He’d already lingered longer than he should have, but he had enough time to get there, he figured.
But then the elevator doors slid open and he saw who was waiting for him.
* * *
IT was cool out. Cool, damp, and the air smelled of rain.
Joss leaned back against the prick’s car as he waited for Jones to show up. It was early, the sun drifting up from the horizon, slow and steady, painting the