Ethan (Devil's Flame MC #9) - Romi Hart Page 0,43
her, comfort her for just a moment, but they couldn’t be seen doing anything that remotely resembled anything more than friendship. So, she settled for a hand at the small of her back, guiding her inside. To most, it was a gentlemanly gesture. To her, it fed her need for contact and let her know he wanted to be near her.
Once they’d had a seat and ordered coffee, Brett didn’t hesitate, launching into the tale while it was still fresh. She wanted to get Ethan’s take on it, based on actions and words, and that meant recalling every detail she could manage. He gave her his rapt attention, asking questions to clarify, as if he realized just how important it was to her to get it straight.
When she finished, he took a deep breath and told her, “Whether or not he’s involved, he knows something. What I’d like to know is, if that involvement is voluntary or forced.”
Brett thought about it. “He didn’t seem spooked at all. Just taunting and sarcastic and angry.”
“Anger is a secondary emotion, a protective response to something else you don’t want to feel,” Ethan spouted, as if reading straight from Psychology 101 text.
“That’s true, but you sound like a therapist,” she teased, wanting to lighten the mood a little. This was all taking a heavy toll on Brett, and she needed levity to make it through.
He smirked. “I told you I was going to be a lawyer. I took psychology in high school to get ahead of the game. And I acted back then too.”
“Really?” He nodded in response. The more she got to know him, the more intrigued she was. She’d have to remind herself to ask him more about it later. “So, you think he might be a pawn in all this.”
Ethan sighed heavily and rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know. He’s an asshole, and I feel like he’s power hungry. But at the same time, I can’t see him leading the charge. I feel like he just doesn’t have the right mix of brains and bravado.”
He had a point, but she didn’t know if she wanted to give Dennis a pass, not after the not so veiled threat he’d leveled less than an hour ago. Changing the subject, she hedged, “So, what news do you have?”
He cleared his throat. “Well, it looks like the trail is cold, which isn’t unusual. The PI will pick it up again eventually, but he says that nine times out of ten, when this happens, it’s because the missing person got to a safe place and bunkered down, not because he’s dead or in deadly hands.”
He was right, it wasn’t much, but it gave her hope. “And how long will it take to find the trail again?”
“It depends on how long ago Martin was completely off the grid. But he’s not working any other cases right now. This is his sole focus. I think he’ll make fast work of it.” Briefly, he reached across the table and touched her hand, a swift gesture that spoke volumes.
Biting her lip and speaking under her breath, Brett told him, “I hope he figures it out fast. I’d like to be able to kiss you in public without thinking we’re going to end up crucified.”
Ethan laughed, that sound she loved so much, and shook his head. “Sweetheart, we’re not saintly enough to be crucified.”
“True,” she conceded, feeling laughter bubbling up from inside. “So, it’ll be the next best thing. They’ll burn us at the stake for being the demons we are.”
He grunted. “Yeah, well, so be it.” In a tone that was more of a growl, he added, “Finish your coffee so I can take my little devil home and spank her for being naughty.”
15
Ethan rested his head on his crooked elbow and gazed down at Brett, sleeping beside him. He was enraptured by her, by the beauty inside and out, and all he could think about in that moment was keeping her safe and happy. He’d insisted she spend the night, knowing everyone in the club knew where she lived and not trusting that she would be safe there.
She’d shown him her pistol and told him she’d be fine, but he’d refused to leave her alone. Brett had suggested he stay with her, but even if no one came after her, someone was likely watching her apartment. He didn’t want to be seen staying with her, considering they were trying to keep things on the down low