Page 25 of Don't Look


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“I love you,” I murmur when he finally collapses on my back, his low, shuddering intakes of breath filling my ears.

“I love you, too, Hailey,” Mick answers, rolling off me and pulling me into his arms. “Fuck, baby. I love you so bad.”

“Good,” I tease him, tickling his ribs. “Now go work.”

I shouldn’t have picked up the phone.

Unfortunately eavesdropping has become a favorite pastime of mine. I mean, can anyone blame me? I don’t even have a television in my room. Listening to my father’s meetings through the vent in my room is my only form of entertainment.

By the time Mick manages to stop kissing me and get out of bed, he still hasn’t quite managed to hide his worry from me. He mentioned having to cut down red tape and I sense he’s not willing to share much more, since he doesn’t want me to be scared. So I’ll have to find out what’s bothering him on my own.

Hearing Mick’s voice on the opposite side of the massive hotel room, I roll over in bed and gently pick up the receiver, covering the mouthpiece with my hand, listening to the conversation already underway between Mick and an older man with a nasal voice.

“You have Stepanov’s daughter in custody, Agent Grady.”

“Protective custody,” Mick corrects him in a sharp tone. “She’s been through hell at the hands of this madman.”

“Yes, you made it clear in your brief last night that she’s a poor little princess who’s been suffering away in her Hollywood Hills mansion.”

“Locking her in a fucking room. Terrorizing her. Did you miss that part? I’ll be happy to read it to you.”

“Somehow I think your interpretation will be different than mine.” I can feel Mick’s frustration and anger in the silence that passes. “I approved the order of protection. Now what can she do for the case? If she’s not an asset, she’s no good to us.” Another tick of silence. “Although I’ve seen the picture of her being taken into protective custody. I imagine you’re finding her good for something. At the risk of your job.”

“I don’t care if you’re my superior. One more comment like that about her and I will not only hand in my badge, I’ll put it somewhere the sun doesn’t shine. I’m doing my job while you sit in an air-conditioned office drinking Starbucks, so spare me the judgment. I get this shit done.”

The man clears his throat. “I notice you didn’t deny a relationship with her.”

“Yeah. And I won’t. She’s mine.” He lets that sink in and warmth spreads in my belly. “But my job is to bring in Stepanov and I’m going to do that regardless.”

“How? Is she willing to testify?”

I swallow hard, trying to imagine facing my father in the courtroom. No. I don’t think he would let me get that far alive. He’d find a way to reach me and make sure I never set foot on the stand.

“She’s not going anywhere near him,” Mick says, his voice deadly. “Not in the building. Not in the same state, as soon as I can manage it. She’s out.”

There’s some bluster on the other end. “Does she have evidence we can use?”

“She’s done with this. Don’t make me say it again.” Mick curses, his stress obvious even though I can’t see him. “I’ve made contact. I’ll get the evidence.”

“You can’t be serious, agent. Your cover is compromised.” The other man snorts. “You’re in his home last night for the first time…and the next morning, there’s a miraculous possibility of mudslides and his daughter goes missing? He’s going to see right through that coincidence and come for you.”

Mick seems unperturbed by this. “Has he already returned to the residence?”

“No. We’re holding the evacuation order for another two hours to make it believable. These things take a while to fix and I’m sure he’s done his due diligence. But as soon as he gets home, the clock starts on him discovering she’s gone and you’re screwed. And unless she can testify, you’ve failed.”

Mick stays quiet, but I can hear his unspoken thoughts nonetheless. He’s willing to compromise himself in the name of my happiness. Safety. And as far as I can tell, he hasn’t told his boss that I’m responsible for replicating the artwork. I could be the ticket to bringing down my father, but he won’t use me. Won’t put me in that position. It could cost him his job.

No. I can’t let it. Not because of me.

I know enough from listening to my father through the grate that his greatest fear is one of his men turning informant. If they ever get caught doing something illegal, they could use evidence against him as a bargaining chip to avoid jail time. Maybe I can do that now. In my room back at the mansion, I have a book of all the counterfeit orders my father left outside my door. I have dates. Even some names my father left on the paperwork by accident. I have everything they’ll need to put him behind bars.

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