Page 49 of The FBI Agents Who Stole Me

I immediately regret that. I can’t flirt with her. She thinks I don’t like her anymore. We are nothing more than partners.

It’s so far from the truth I can’t believe she bought the lie in the first place. She ignored me for six workdays. On the seventh, she did what she always does, stands strong and tells everyone to fuck off.

I still torture myself by watching her at her apartment. She’s gone through bags of candy, but at least she has Jasper there with her now. It was exactly what I needed her to do. It’s also exactly what is killing me.

Lee: I mean, maybe…

Her three dots appear. Go away then come back again.

Lee: Naw. Just the coffee.

With a huff of a laugh, I lock the door and head back to my car. I can run faster without the pack. Still, I sling the shotgun across my front because I refuse to go up against a powerful government agency only to be eaten by a bear before I get there.

In the car, I crank the heat and connect my phone to the Bluetooth. Before I put it in gear, I send one more message.

Elliot: I’ll bring the coffee. You can decide what else you want me when you get there.

Lee:

I smile stupidly at the emoji like I didn’t break her only days ago.

Another message comes through the car play system.

Unknown: The bait has been set. Play along with her vigilante shit and get us some goddamn proof. You are running out of time. Get the murder evidence, or we pull this shit and go with the extortion charge.

My brief smile dies.

Elliot: Neither of us wants that. Let me get more from her.

Unknown: Do it quickly.

My hands tighten on the steering wheel.

I have to bury Fuller before he gets to Lee. And I’m running out of time.

CHAPTER 14

Julian

3 WEEKS AGO

My feet barely lift off the floor as I drag myself into the bathroom. I’ve stitched five members of a gang, closed a bullet wound that hit an artery, and even performed surgery on their dog’s leg within three hours. The dog injury was unrelated to the others. I’m not even a licensed vet, but I know how to triage and save limbs, bones, and lives. He was a cute puppy, too, so I couldn't help it.

God, I miss her. It’s so quiet here. I hate it.

My shoulder rams into the wall with a force I never saw coming. An arm crashes across my collarbone and pins me by the throat. Cool metal presses hard against my temple.

“Calm down. I’m here to talk.”

“People that want to talk usually use a phone,” I say.

My pulse slams against the pressure on my neck. I force my eyes to focus on the face inches from mine. I know it. It’s been burned into my brain for months. I’ve pictured this man with my girl in ways that still make me psychotic.

“Well get on with it then. Use the gun or fuck off,” I grit through my teeth. I shouldn’t antagonize him, but like I said, psychotic.

“Lee needs help. She’s in so fucking deep that if we don’t help her…”

He lets off my chest just enough to give me an opening. I knee him in the gut, and he folds forward. It’s enough for me to slam my head against his and see him wince with the crack of our skulls. With a hard shove, I have enough room to step away from his hold.