up her purse and my knife off the floor. “We’ll talk about this later—what just happened—Cole. You and your shenanigans while on surveillance, I swear.”
I motion back to her purse. “I can’t believe you stole my knife and didn’t tell me you were armed.”
“I can hardly defend myself when I can’t manage a sit up. Did you really think I was going to waltz in here defenseless?”
I wave my phone around before unlocking it to check the encyclopedia of messages and missed calls. “What do you think I’m here for?”
She tugs at her panties. “We need to get out of here.”
Three missed calls from Crew.
Crew – Call me asap. I’m hearing chatter and it has nothing to do with Bella.
What the hell? Crew hardly ever calls me.
Jarvis – Better in the Kennedy Center than my car.
Asa – Not sure I’m going to be able to look you in the face again if I have to sit here and listen to you two hit it in the coat room.
Jarvis – How long has it been since her surgery? Damn, she’s tough.
Asa –I’m going to have to see you at elementary school concerts and shit. I hate you, Carson.
Crew – Time is of the essence. Answer the damn phone.
I don’t bother listening to the slew of voicemails. “Hang on. I’ve got to call Vega and we need the crowds to clear before we leave.”
She adjusts her wig and pulls out a compact to check her once perfectly-applied lipstick, which is now ruined and probably smeared all over my new dress shirt. I sound like an adolescent teen, but I may never wash it.
I press callback and put my cell to my ear. Crew answers. “Where are you?”
My eyes dart to Bella and she snaps her mirror shut when I answer. “Kennedy Center. Why?”
“Bella with you?”
“Yeah. She’s right here.”
“How fast can you get to your car?” Crew bites.
“What’s wrong?” Bella asks.
I look at the woman who had surgery only weeks ago. The car is parked a couple blocks away and we could normally make it fast when she was operating at peak performance. But she’s not and she’s also dealing with that damn dress and those shoes I really want to fuck her in. “We’re a couple blocks away from the car.”
“Your boss knows where you are but not because of Bella. Her name wasn’t mentioned. Nick Peterson and Wendy Sisson started digging and found out you never put the order on Simmons. Peterson tried to reach out directly to me two hours ago. I covered for you, told him we’re on it. But over the last thirty minutes, they somehow found out we’re not. Carson, they’re tracking your work cell. They know you’re at the Kennedy Center and are sending someone to you and not to talk. I have no idea who that someone is and none of this shit sounds official.”
I pull out my other cell, the one issued to me by none other than the Central fucking Intelligence Agency.
I stare at the piece of technology they’re now using against me.
Bella breaks into my thoughts. “Cole?”
“Get the hell out of there,” Crew demands.
I end my call in one hand and fist my work cell in the other.
“Answer me,” Bella demands.
I turn and toss what my employer is now using as a tracking device into the first locker I see. Slamming the door shut, I twist the key and yank it out before turning on my heel. I look down at the woman I just gave an earth-shattering orgasm to and hope it didn’t suck all of her energy. “I’m sorry, baby, but we’re going to have to test your post-op endurance. You’d better lose the shoes because we need to move fast. I’ll explain on the way.”
Bella
“You okay?” He doesn’t look down at me nor is he winded, as I am.
My bloody body.
I’m barefoot, fisting my very expensive shoes with my purse tucked to my chest. Cole’s hand is strangling my other and I dare the beast who tries to separate us—that’s how tightly he’s holding onto me.
He hasn’t said much, but what he has explained is downright fucked. I’m not sure what this means for him or his job. What I do know is, the Cole Carson I have worked with does not get riled.
Like him, I’m scanning the city streets as we move through the dark and now I’m cursing the fact I wanted to be seen this evening. This getup is definitely doing its job and we’re gaining