about.
The instant the information was sucked into the Bureau’s mainframe, it spread like wildfire. There was no chance in hell I could contain it. It burned all the way to the hierarchies glaring down at us. Even my father caught wind of what was happening. Add those points to the fact it was the anniversary of Joey’s death, and I was beginning to confuse Madden’s sadistic ways as my own childhood.
I must have done something catastrophic in my life because not only did I get rip-roaring drunk and confess my sins to Alex in a sequence of text messages and voicemails, I used Bureau contacts to track down Melody’s email address so I could reach out to her after years of silence.
It wasn’t a polite, hey-I’ve-missed-you email.
I poured my fucking heart out.
Did I get an answer?
Nope.
I know she read it. I still have the delivery receipt sitting in my inbox.
You know all is said and done when words directly from your soul can’t move the woman who cheated on you into possibly forgiving you.
With my past weighing down my emotions, I divert my attention back to my phone squished against my ear. “What type of bank record are you chasing?”
I can’t see Grayson, but I can picture him rubbing his hands together while grinning a slick smile. He loves that I can’t say no to him.
My mom has always said ‘strange things happen for the most peculiar reasons.’ My reply was always, ‘No shit, Sherlock, because peculiar and strange mean the same thing.’
Now I’m eating my words.
This can’t be true, can it? That can’t possibly be Tobias’s daughter walking into a sub-branch of the Bureau at Ravenshoe—surely.
I heard Isabelle had graduated from the academy a few months back, but with Alex’s work schedule worse than Theresa’s, I’ve not had the chance to check what she’s up to. I got her on the straight and narrow as Tobias and Grayson did for me, then I walked away according to Tobias’s request. But this, this changes everything, doesn’t it? She’s walking into my life, not the other way around, so Tobias’s wishes no longer count, right?
Right.
Then why the fuck does it feel wrong to act like I have no clue who she is when her pretty brown eyes drift my way? I’m quick to divert my eyes like I did when keeping an eye on her from afar the months following Tobias’s death, but the academy didn’t just double her receptiveness. Maturity did as well.
“Hello,” Isabelle greets, stopping at my desk.
She sounds the same as I remember, so I rake my eyes down her body to ensure she still looks the same.
Awareness of her surroundings isn’t the only thing that has matured.
So did her body.
Jesus.
I should not be looking at her as I am, but before I can remind myself that anyone associated with the Bureau is off-limits, not to mention she’s the equivalent of Tobias’s daughter, Alex’s grumpy baritone booms across the room. “I need that document now, Brandon.”
Eager to move before my sweaty top lip gives away the fact we’ve met previously, I find the flight manifest that reveals our target, Isaac Holt—suspected mob associate, businessman, and somewhat ladies’ man—flew home commercially this weekend instead of utilizing one of his many private jets. That’s so unlike him, Alex is convinced it’s the beginning of the end for Isaac. I’m inclined to agree with him. Isaac hasn’t made a single mistake since we’ve been watching him. Although a trip home in a commercial plane seems innocent enough, usually there’s more to unplanned actions than there are intended ones.
Alex has barely snatched the document from my hand when Isabelle joins us in the middle of the bustling office. “Hi, I’m Isabelle Brahn, your new agent.” Her hand thrust directed at Alex reveals she has recognized him but not me.
I’m okay with that.
The last thing I want is a stalker charge added to the thick file the Bureau already has on me.
“Michelle,” Alex roars a few seconds later, startling Isabelle. “I thought I ordered a blonde?”
When Michelle, a mid-forties techie who’s obsessed with the head of our division, magically appears at Alex’s side, Alex returns his slit-gaze to Isabelle. If the narrowed squint of Isabelle’s eyes is anything to go by, she didn’t appreciate his gawk of her body as much as she did mine.
I’m okay with that as well.
“Does she look brunette to you?”
Michelle bats her lashes, pleased Alex seems to have noticed a flaw in Isabelle. Just like our target, Alex