I shrug in halfhearted agreement. “I’m doing what I should have done years ago. I’ll have Isaac’s back as he’s always had mine.”
Hugo follows me to my front door. “What if he’s in the surveillance van?”
He doesn’t need to say Alex’s name for me to know to whom he is referring.
“He won’t be.” I cross the threshold of my door, saving Hugo from hearing the last half of my grumbled statement. “That means he’d have to still care for me.”
Which we both know he doesn’t.
Twenty-Six
Alex
“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?”
After scrubbing my tired eyes, I raise them from a bank of computer monitors to Reid. “There is no use in us both being tired. Go home and get some sleep; then we’ll swap places in the morning.”
Even knowing I’m lying doesn’t stop Reid from jerking his chin up before he exits the surveillance van we’ve been camped in most of our day. He’s tired. Rightfully so. My position means I work more hours than a standard FBI agent, yet I’m still exhausted out of my mind.
Brandon is smart, but even worse than that is how cunning he is. He has everyone fooled. He didn’t even need to flash his badge to gain access to Regan’s apartment today. He just sauntered up to the security guard, slapped hands with him like they’re college roomies, then entered the idling elevator.
If it weren’t for Regan’s comment about Isaac removing all surveillance devices from his private premises, I’d be none the wiser to his visit. Unfortunately for Brandon, I don’t need to piggyback off Isaac’s feed to maintain video surveillance. I just needed Reid and his impressive security hacking skills.
Approximately ten minutes later, tires screeching to a stop pummel my ears. I tap on the mouse button three times, bringing up the hidden device Reid installed in the underground parking lot of Hector earlier today.
Isaac must have broken at least ten traffic laws to make it here this fast. The movement sheet indicated he’d left the dungeon ten minutes ago. The trip usually takes thirty.
He’s barely switched off the ignition of his Bugatti before he throws open his door and charges for the elevators in the far corner of the garage. Halfway there, he suddenly stops. My heart beats in an unnatural rhythm when a person steps out of the shadow shrouding half of Isaac’s face. Although I can’t see their features, I know who it is. A thousand years couldn’t erase her feverish frame and the generous swell of her breasts from my mind. It’s Regan.
I turn up the volume on my monitor when Regan faintly whispers, “You cannot go in there.”
Although I have the volume up as loud as it can go, I don’t hear what Isaac replies. Lucky, as I’m five seconds from blowing my cover to wipe the arrogant glare off his face with my fists from the way he is glaring at her, much less hearing the words delivered with it. He stares at Regan in warning, as if whatever she is saying is hurting him as much as he hurt me twelve months ago.
When Isaac attempts to skirt past Regan, she steps into his path, causing his jaw muscle to twitch. They engage in a few more words before Isaac bangs his chest with his fist.
This time, when he heads for the elevator, Regan lets him go. He barely makes it three steps away before he freezes, spins, then snarls.
I stand from my chair when he races back toward Regan. His face is lined with anger, and his fists are clenched. His steps are so long and efficient, he reaches her in less than a heartbeat. I flinch as badly as Regan does when he grabs her wrist.
The only thing stopping me from charging out of this surveillance van and pummeling some sense into him is when he drops Regan’s wrist as quickly as he snagged it.
I watch him closely, my nostrils flaring less with each apologetic glance he directs at Regan. I don’t know what he’s more concerned about: the words they shared, or the way she responded to him grabbing her.
I’m furious about both.
After inhaling a big breath that pushes her chest out, Regan tugs Isaac into the darkened corner she was hiding in before he arrived. It conceals them from the general public, but the night vision filter on my camera keeps me in the loop.
I take a mental note to switch my surveillance vehicle first thing tomorrow morning when Regan nudges her head my way, alerting Isaac to my location. Her glance is so accurate, I have no doubt she’s on to me.
After a quick scan of the street, Isaac returns to his conversation with Regan. Have you ever felt like a sitting duck? That’s exactly what I feel when Regan swings her eyes in my direction for the second time. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear she can see me through the super dark tint covering the van’s back window. She appears to be staring straight at me.
The tension fueling their exchange dampens a short time later when a smirk curves Isaac’s lips high. He looks lighter than he did when he arrived, as if a weight has been lifted from his shoulders. After running his fingers through his hair, he takes a step closer to Regan. Whatever he says this time around must be more a plea than a demand as it pops a pondering crinkle between Regan’s brows. Her eyes return my way for the third time.
I stare at her, willing her to see in Isaac what I see. To look past the wool he pulled over her eyes all those years ago and perceive who he truly is. When she steps closer to Isaac, I think my prayers have been answered. She’s not looking at him with admiration and respect. She appears a little ill, as if it’s finally dawned on her he isn’t the man she believes he is.
My intuition has never been proven more wrong when she fists Isaac’s jacket in her hand before aligning their lips. She murmurs something over Isaac’s mouth before she gently nibbles on his lips. I freeze, utterly shocked and sickened by what I’m seeing. It is as if my nightmares for the last twelve months are being played out in front of me, one slow motherfucking detail at a time.
My fists clench when Isaac grips Regan’s jean-covered backside to curl her legs around his waist. Fury blackens my blood as they move toward the elevator bank, their bodies intertwined as one, like they’re too impatient to keep their hands off each other until they’ve entered the sanctuary of their bedroom.
