So I held his gaze and said quietly, “I’m good at what I do.”
Lee looked at Hank.
Hank started, “Ally—”
My eyes went to him.
“I knew they were who they were the minute I saw them, and I knew they were not there to negotiate. I didn’t waste time. I also,” my eyes went to Lee, “took two down. I know I had surprise on my side, but I still kept my shit together and I didn’t f**k around and do it like a girl. I did it like I meant it and incapacitated them both without hesitation.” My eyes moved back to Hank and I repeated, “I’m good at what I do. And what happened in there is only part of it.” Again I looked to Lee. “And if you’d listen to Darius and Brody—not like a brother, but like a colleague—you’d know exactly how good I can be.”
I left it at that. They were macho alphas. Drama only worked on them if it ended in them giving and receiving an orgasm.
This was going to be my livelihood, and these two men who happened to be my brothers were integral in me making a go of it.
So, like an alpha badass, I let my actions speak for me, moved around Hank and walked back into Lincoln’s to give my statement to Jimmy.
Chapter Sixteen
I’m Me
I parked in front of Ren’s and I was a little freaked.
This was because I’d texted him after Operation Takedown Baddies and told him our plans for the evening had to change. I also asked him to phone me when he had a few minutes to talk so I could explain.
He didn’t phone, and when I phoned him he didn’t pick up.
During the Not-Really-Fuck-Buddies phase of our relationship, we didn’t text or call to shoot the shit, be funny or flirty.
But we did text and even call to sort things like his place or mine or tell each other we were on our way.
This had obviously intensified since our time in Carnal, but even before Ren had never ignored a text or phone call from me. If I called, I couldn’t remember a time when he didn’t immediately answer. Not even one. And he might not return a text instantly, but I never had to wait more than an hour to get a reply.
So the fact that he didn’t do any of that and hours had passed freaked me.
I didn’t want our relationship to fall into a pattern of taking each other for granted. This wasn’t to say that I expected him to hop to the minute I tried to connect with him. But I also didn’t want to slide into a place where he assumed it was cool to delay connecting with me because he knew he had me where he wanted me and I could fit into the schedule of his day. Especially not if something I had to say was important.
Which this was.
I folded out of my car, threw the door to and beeped the locks, crossing the street and making my way up to Ren’s.
I’d never asked, but looking around on my way up to his house, distractedly I figured he had to have a gardener. Denver was arid, but that didn’t mean yards could not be lush and green. However, for them to be so, you had to put a shitload of effort into it. Ren’s front and back yards were amazing. Thick and flourishing, mostly plants and grasses, but here and there was a hint of color that made it interesting.
And it wasn’t him slaving away to make it that way.
I put the key in the lock, turned it and walked in, kicking the door closed behind me. Then I stopped dead.
The front of Ren’s house was one long room with two seating areas. One was just a seating area. The other was the TV area.
He was sitting on a couch to my left in the TV area. The TV, however, was not on. His suit jacket was off, but he had not changed out of his shirt or trousers. The cuffs of his shirt were rolled back, though. He had one arm slung across the back of the couch. The other hand was upending and touching his cell on his knee.
Upend, slide, touch it to his knee and repeat.
This was weird.
His eyes were on me.
They were angry.
I felt the air in the room was heavy and I knew I was in trouble.