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He runs his fingers through his hair and tugs on the ends as he turns his back to me. I don’t blame him. This is one gigantic clusterfuck, just like the rest of my life. So I guess it makes sense for this shit to happen right now.
“We need better surveillance. You cannot sit there and watch him alone. Sure, you can gather intel, but in a case like today, one of us should have been there to follow his ass.”
I agree. Nodding once, I lift my hand and run my own fingers through my hair. I know that my brothers and I all have a lot of the same characteristics, and this is one of them. Lifting my gaze to meet his, I hold my breath for just a moment before I let it out in a whoosh.
“I’m not supposed to tell anyone I’m working on this,” I admit. “Dad would have my fucking ass.”
Coleman smirks. “You know if we don’t tell Wells, he’s going to be really pissed off.”
“Yeah,” I admit. “He will.”
“After my meeting, we get together for dinner. Set it up. Text me the time and place.”
“Will do,” I murmur.
He jerks his chin, then turns and walks into the passport office. I have no fucking idea what he could be meeting there about, but I also don’t ask because it’s not my fucking business. Instead, I watch as he walks into the building before I spin around and make my way toward my car.
Shooting a text to Wells, I ask him to meet me for dinner.
W: I THOUGHT YOU WERE WORKING IN YOUR HOLE?
A GUY’S GOTTA EAT. NEED TO TALK TO YOU AND C.
W: THEN I’LL BE THERE.
He tells me where he wants to go, and I don’t miss the fact that it’s just a mile away from his and Coleman’s houses. He wants to be close to home. Close to his wife. I don’t blame him. That’s where I would be if I could.
After sending Coleman a text with the time and place, I glance at the clock on my dash and realize I have three hours before I have to be there. Three hours of downtime means three hours of watching Allison.
I shouldn’t. Except that’s exactly what I want to do. I want to watch her. I want to know she’s safe, that she’s okay, and I want to see her sexy-as-fuck body, too. Goddamn, I don’t think I could ever, not ever, get tired of looking at her, even from afar.
It doesn’t take me long to reach her place, even though the traffic in Dallas is heavy, as usual. I could really move the fuck out of the city. I wouldn’t miss this goddamn traffic, that’s for sure.
Pulling into her parking garage, I drive around until I find her spot, but her car isn’t there. I don’t know why I expect her to be in her apartment in the middle of the day, but I do, and she isn’t.
That shit pisses me off instantly.
And not just because I want her ass to be home, but mostly because I have no control over it, so I’m more pissed at myself than anyone else. This shit is all on me, every single fucking ounce of it.
Moving to the visitor parking, I pull in and watch the entrance to the parking garage. I don’t know when she’s going to come in, or if. But I’ll be right here. I sit there for a moment or two, then remember that I have her ass tracked. I never turned that off, and to be honest, I probably never will.
Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I find her tracker. I don’t realize where she is immediately. It takes me a moment to recognize the address, mainly because I don’t really know it. The building is just somewhere that is ingrained inside my brain.
She’s at my fucking mother’s office.
Instantly, I know I have to break in there again. I have to read the notes my mother has on her. I have to know what the fuck Allison is telling her. There’s no goddamn way around it. And beyond all of that, I need to know what kind of advice my mother is giving her. I have to fucking know.
So Allison is safe, she’s with my mother. Fuck. I decide to shift my focus to Samson. His phone is still at his house. Which means he’s still out doing whatever the fuck he’s doing, and I’m missing all of it.
Thank fuck my father doesn’t know any of this shit. He would seriously beat my ass if he did. I fucked up. I let this asshole slip. I didn’t do my job as thoroughly as I should have, and I fucking know better. But Coleman is right. I need at least one more set of eyes on this because a job that I thought wasn’t going to produce anything at all seems to be fairly fertile and in production.
Tossing my phone on the passenger seat, I put the car into Reverse and leave the apartment building. Heading toward the restaurant, I decide that I need a drink before I meet with my brothers.
I need to think about this. All of this is a little much for me right now. I’m not sure I can really focus on anyone right now when I have this Samson shit from my dad to deal with. I’ve obviously let this marriage and this relationship with Allison get in my head. I need to shake myself out of it and focus on work.
Just work.
Women don’t matter anymore.
