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Corey shrugged. “The word’s been put out that anyone who touches the new dancer gets the shit beat out of him, touch her enough and you’re dead.”
Gretchen stopped mid-strike at the sound of sincerity in Callahan’s voice.
Neil dropped his hands and turned toward the other agent. “Who said that?
“Jay Finley,” Corey answered.
Neil turned back to her. “Jay Finley? Why’s he warning people away from you?”
She looked away from the storm brewing in her partner’s gaze. He knew exactly why the warning had been given.
“You haven’t told him?” Corey’s voice exposed the smile on his face, before she turned to glare at him and it disappeared. He knew she hadn’t said anything.
“I told you I had an in.” She tried for nonchalance as she moved back to Neil. “Jay Finley’s my in.”
“Isthatwhat you call it?” Corey quipped. “Why? Because he’s in—”
“That’s enough,” Neil snarled.
She raised a shoulder as if none of this mattered. “I didn’t know Jay’d made any declarations about my safety.”
“She’s sleeping with him,” Corey clarified. “That’s why he’s protecting her.”
Neil slid his glare back to her, and this time she met it with pure defiance.
“You’re sleeping with him?”
Gretchen’s anger waned at the clear sound of desperation in her partner’s voice. She knew the lines between them were blurry, and she hadn’t meant to do anything to hurt him, but as she forced herself to take in the betrayal etched on every bit of his handsome face, she realized that’s exactly what she’d done.
“It’s not like the two of you haven’t done it before,” she reminded the men.
“I’ve never slept with the mark,” Corey offered.
“Finley isnotthe mark,” she spat before reeling in her anger. She didn’t need either of them to look too closely at Finn. “We’re after Carlisle.”
“We’re after Carlisle’s organization and everyone associated with it,” Neil reminded her. “He wouldn’t even have an organization if it weren’t for Jay Finley.”
“Carlisle may have the money and the name,” Corey continued, “but Finley’s the balls behind it. Nothing happens without his approval and enforcement.”
“There wouldn’t be blood on Carlisle’s hands if Finley didn’t shed it,” Neil finished.
Gretchen ran her sweaty hands over the short legs of her shorts. She tried to tell herself they weren’t describing Finn, tried to separate the man she’d fallen in love with from the man he was in that other world, but even if she could do that, no one else ever would.
She swallowed and turned back to Neil. “So, I guess it’s a good thing he has my back.”
Neil dropped his head back to look at the ceiling and let out a long, exasperated breath. “If you’re not working out, I’m sure you have better places to be, Callahan,” he spoke without looking at the other man.
Callahan chuckled. “Yeah, sure.”
He glanced at Gretchen. She suppressed the urge to lunge for his throat and shot up her middle finger instead. Callahan blew her a kiss, before he backed out the door.
She looked back at her partner. “Listen, Neil, it’s not—”
He’d turned away and paced to the other side of the room. “Jay Finley,” he muttered. “What the hell, Gretchen? Has he made you? Does he know who you are?” He turned back to her, and the mild storm in his eyes moments before was full blown and raging now.
“No,” she lied too smoothly. “No one knows I’m undercover. I’m a pole dancer who happens to be sleeping with him.”
“Ronnie Sinclair is the only woman he sleeps with at the clubs. Why you?”
