Page 108 of Cozen

The jealousy burned bright and hot in Sargon’s gut. The rage was far worse—an uncontrollable inferno threatening to swallow him entirely whole. Every short, painful breath he took only made it that much worse, too. Like wind fanning the flames. And yet, if he didn’t take those short, painful breaths, he couldn’t remain calm and steady.

It was a double-edged sword.

Every part of him screamed to go—to move—and do something. Interrupt whatever was happening in some way. Maybe a simple knock on the door would do it.

But then what?

What would he say to justify his sudden appearance? The excuse of a fake emergency might work, but only until Jett figured out there was no emergency to leave for. Sargon would then have to explain all of that nonsense.

It was a lose-lose situation.

He stayed put even though it almost killed him to do so. Even though the rage and jealousy continued to wreak havoc on his thoughts and heart, he didn’t move a muscle.

She can handle herself.

She knows what she’s doing.

It was the jiggle of a doorknob, and the creak of an opening door that brought Sargon from his thoughts—for the briefest second, his mask had almost slipped off. Even in his thoughts, he kept that mask on.

He had to.

It was how this always worked.

“Come,” he heard ordered.

Down the hall, a very frustrated Jett stood waiting for him. Maybe Sargon really was losing his goddam mind. The man waved a hand at him impatiently, and then shot a look over his shoulder when the apartment door was closed again. A deep scowl etched its way onto the man’s face.

“Well, what are you doing still standing there, Sargon?” Jett demanded.

Well …

Sargon raised a brow. “The car is out this way, Jett.”

“Oh … yes, that’s right. Let’s go then.”

Jett stormed down the hallway looking no different than he had before he went into Cozen’s apartment. It was the second thing Sargon noticed about his boss after the frustration he showcased. His suit wasn’t crumpled, and his salt and pepper hair was still perfectly slicked back.

The deepening scowl the man continued to wear only confirmed it further—he had gotten nowhere with Cozen. Nowhere physically, anyway. Nothing that would be worth doing if he was still perfectly coifed in every way. Certainly not enough to satisfy whatever Jett was looking for, or whatever he went into that apartment wanting to do.

The frustration made sense. That woman could frustrate anyone with the way she teased and went on. Sargon knew that firsthand.

Sargon followed behind Jett as the two navigated the stairs leading to the back door of the apartment building. Jett, who was usually quite animated and liked to talk, now seemed to have nothing to say at all.

“Where to now?” Sargon asked as they headed out of the apartment building. “We have other things to do today, don’t we?”

He was fine, now.

The further away Jett was from Cozen, the better Sargon felt.

“Home,” Jett said in a grunt.

“I thought you mentioned a meet—”

Jett waved a hand high. “I want to go home, so take me there.”

“Whatever you want, boss.”

Sargon sped up his strides to move ahead of Jett, and open the back passenger door of the black Mercedes. Jett slipped in without as much as a thank you, and Sargon closed the door after him. The whole time, Jett kept his eyes averted to anywhere but on Sargon.