“Only that your bein’ freaked out has finally got me freaked out,” Dev drawled, carefully cleaning his belly. The suspicion had Cash sitting back on his heels, assessing Dev’s truth. The crease between his brows settled in place. He didn’t believe Dev. “That’s it. I swear.”
Cash rolled his eyes, his head followed, turning away from Dev as he got to his feet. Cash took the towels from Dev’s hand. Technically, he wasn’t finished, but he let it go, watching as Cash tossed them in the trash before reaching for his clothes. He dressed quickly, said nothing more and started out of the apartment.
“What the hell, Ryan?” Dev called out, jumping up, tugging his jeans back in place. The sudden blast of ice-cold air spoke to how truly awful he was at being a property owner. Just another thing to add to the list of shit he couldn’t get right.
“I did what I had to do.” Dev tried to reason, grabbing his Henley off the floor, following Cash out. How was Cash already halfway up the staircase?
“I bought us time,” Dev yelled at the base of the steps like a damn broken record.
And the goddamn secret agent ignored him a-fucking-gain.
He hated that shit and took the stairs up two at a time in loud, stomping steps. He wasn’t coordinated enough to put on the shirt and climb the stairs as quickly and jauntily as Cash had. “The government’s stretchin’ you too thin. I actually helped my team out. I’m a goddamn team player.”
“Not anymore,” Cash said absently, taking long strides across the catwalk toward his apartment. Dev had to think over each word said, then shook his head. They still didn’t make sense.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Dev asked and stopped just inside Cash’s apartment. Joe worked between the many monitors on a table in the middle of the room. The guy was some sort of computer specialist. Could manipulate data like a beast, or something like that. He didn’t really care.
Speaking of government employees, his turncoat of a sister was probably somewhere in the apartment too.
Cash went for his bedroom and called out loud enough for anyone in the apartment to hear. “I have an update. Let me grab a sweatshirt. It’s freezing in here.”
Shanna came in behind Dev, moving around him to take a seat at the table next to Joe. She wore a hoodie, beanie, and gloves.
“Oh come on. It’s not that cold in here,” Dev said, throwing his hands in the air, tired of all the shade coming his way. He pivoted around to leave. Fuck the update.
His dramatic exit was made better by the crashing sounds of his apartment door slamming shut behind him.
He needed a nap. It was exhausting to be five steps ahead of everyone else.
Chapter 9
Cash let the directions on his cell phone guide their way through the long halls of DFW International Airport. A renewed sense of optimism fueled his way. The professionalism he’d always used in his cases had finally returned. Late, but that was better than never.
He had to close this case so he could date Dev... Like go on a dinner date with the guy then maybe catch a movie like people in real relationships did. It didn’t seem all that much to ask.
The hope of such a thing made his emotional state better. The hazy fog of fear that had settled over his soul was lifting. The tight tension he carried in his neck and shoulders eased. His worry wasn’t necessarily over. The nightmare kept him on edge, but he hoped this morning’s meeting might allow him to sleep better tonight.
“I just don’t understand why’re you still makin’ me pay for somethin’ I had to do?” Dev whined again, on repeat for the tenth time this morning, the hundredth time in the preceding twenty-four hours.
There was no answer that appeased his biker. Dev completely lacked the ability to understand organization or to adhere to any structured policy. The man was pure chaos.
“I’m not making you pay for anything,” Cash said again. “That’s your guilt talking. Now look for room A21.” Cash turned the next corner, reading the etched plates above each door. From parking in a hidden alcove, to navigating this deserted part of the airport, he did everything in his power to keep both the local DEA office and the Disciples of Havoc’s many layers of informants from knowing where they were.
“I’m not gonna be okay with anyone watchin’ my every move. Neither is the club. All these new people comin’ into my life are red flags…”
“There it is,” Cash said, cutting Dev off as he pointed then stepped in Dev’s way to veer him toward the door. A quick twist of the doorknob showed it was locked. He rapped lightly before glancing at Dev.
That fuck-you glare he wore all the time was present on his face. His deep tan and masculine features—a strong jaw, carved lips, and previously broken nose—added to the sex appeal. He had to look away or get lost in all the attraction.
When Cash heard the door unlatch, he pushed it open. They were alone inside the meeting room. A long narrow table sat in the middle, hard plastic chairs lined either side. On the opposite side of the space sat a door and bank of windows overlooking an empty corridor. He surveyed every corner, taking in the complete surroundings before ushering Dev inside. “They’re not here yet.”
“Nothin’ gets past you, Sherlock,” Dev quipped, shrugging out of his bomber jacket and tossing it over a chair. “They need to turn the fuckin’ heat down.”
Cash had opted for clothing that was more relaxed today. Slacks and a sweater. He was also warm, so he shrugged out of his coat, placing it carefully beside Dev’s. He was mindful, taking care to avoid wrinkles before they were permanent.
“I get final say on this guy,” Dev said with authority, coming to stand by him, staring out the back window down the long corridor. Cash didn’t correct Dev, but Dev having final say on anything at this point wasn’t in the cards. Instead, he grabbed Dev by the waistband, ushering him down into a chair.
“Have a seat. They’ll be here soon.”
