Hard Rules - Lisa Renee Jones Page 0,97

hallway in front of me, and a tall, good-looking man in a dark suit with wavy blond hair is with him. “Hi,” I say with an awkward wave of my hand. “I knocked but you didn’t answer.”

“I was just leaving anyway,” the other man says, giving me a nod and then eyeing Shane. “I’ll be in touch.” He steps around us and leaves.

The door shuts behind me, leaving Shane and me alone. Shane steps closer to me, his suit jacket gone, his tie loose, and he looks like sin and sex and torment. “We need to talk,” he says, a lean away from touching me, but he doesn’t. And I sense he doesn’t want me to touch him either.

“I’m listening,” I say, every nerve in my body on edge waiting for some bombshell beyond what I know already.

“There are things happening, Emily, that I can’t, I won’t, risk you becoming involved in. Tomorrow you make sure you get fired and I’ll make sure you get the severance you need.”

This is my out. I should take it and run, but instead I ask, “So that’s it? I quit and go away?”

“For now. We talked about this.”

“And yet you won’t even touch me.”

“If I touch you, I won’t send you home, and I can’t let that happen.” He takes a step backward, as if solidifying those words. When his gray eyes meet mine, they are steel, his decision made. I wait to feel rejected by the coldness of the moment, but I do not. He really means to protect me. There is no other option to him and I am ashamed of how weak I was in protecting him.

I inhale a deep breath as I step to the coatrack, grabbing my purse and bag and turning for the door. I want him to stop me, but I know he won’t. He believes this is the right decision. I’d believed that as well until I’d heard the trouble he’s in. Sitting outside his father’s door, I have a unique window into the family with whom Shane is at war. Leaving now is deserting a ship, and a battle post, in the middle of that war. I won’t do that. I’m staying.

“Emily,” he says. My hand is on the door, but the next thing I know, he’s grabbed me, and his hand is on the back of my head. He’s kissing me, deeply, passionately, and then he sets me away from him and opens the door. “If you don’t make my father fire you, I’ll fire you.”

I leave without a word, the taste of his regret, and my own, on my lips, with no intention of anyone firing me. I’m more resourceful than he thinks, and I care too much about him to let his family win.

SHANE

Two hours after I gutted myself by forcing Emily out of my apartment and my life, at least for the time being, Seth and Nick join me at my apartment, Nick making a discreet entry separate from Seth. Convening at the island in the kitchen, both men look weary, Nick with a thick stubble on his jaw, and Seth with his tie loose and his jacket gone.

“I’m going to cut to the chase here,” Nick says, opening the conversation, “and the news isn’t good. I’ve talked to my buddy at the Feds and they are indeed investigating a performance-enhancing drug called ‘Sub-Zero’ on the streets.”

“How do we know that connects the dots to my company?” I ask.

“It’s being investigated as the cause of death of a professional athlete,” he says, confirming what Eric’s patient had claimed. “Toxicology, however, was negative but as you told Seth, that would be expected. And that’s part of the buzz on the streets. Not only is it rumored to produce the same physical benefits of a steroid with an added boost of mental clarity, but it remains invisible.”

“What about hair follicle testing?” I ask.

“Negative,” Nick says. “There’s a hypothesis the drug somehow mimics something naturally created in the body, but there’s absolutely no supporting evidence. Aside from chatter on the streets, the FBI is flying blind on this one.”

“And that chatter is going to lead them to me,” I say, “like it did the doctor who came to me today.”

“Does any of this chatter include the Martina cartel?” Seth asks.

“Negative again,” Nick says. “At this point, they’ve been focusing on high-end sports clinics, college sports complexes, and doctors.” His gaze cuts to me. “If you go to them—”

“Not no,” I say, “but hell

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