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He was on the phone, shirtless, and standing facing the windows.
I wasn’t actively listening to him until I heard the wordswait,team, andswarming the house. Then I focused on what he was actually saying.
I shot up to my knees, and my mouth was still gaping as I listened while he was arguing with someone else on the phone about waiting to go in and get my mother. I’d heard enough to get my blood boiling by the time he finished the call.
He turned, saw me, and stopped in his tracks.
“Are you insane?” Here’s my hissing part. “Idid notjust hear what I heard.”
He took me in, his mouth closed, and his jaw firmed. His shoulders lifted and rolled back, and his chin went up.
Oh yeah.
We were going to fight.
He tossed his phone onto the couch before turning back to me and folding his arms over his chest, and I wasn’t distracted by how his muscles moved and shifted from that movement. Or how he looked all hot and moody. And my loins weren’t stirring.
Nope. Not happening.
I coughed, clearing my throat. “You did not just tell whoever was on that phone that you needtimeto go andget my mother, did you?!”
Because that would be absurd.
That was preposterous.
That was going to make my blood pressure go from a good sizzle to a boil to exploding the blood pressure cuffs off of me.
I’m sure steam was coming out of the top of my head.
And all the while, Kash lowered his head, his eyes on me, and he shifted his feet apart. Oh boy. He was taking a fighting stance. This was going to happen. We were going to fight about this.
I said it quietly, but clearly. He had to hear how serious I was. “I want my mother.”
“You’ll get your mother.” Almost as quietly, just as clearly, and he was locked in.
We were going to battle.
“I want her now.”
“You’ll get her.”
He didn’t say “now.” He needed to say “now.”
“Kash.” A warning from me.
“Bailey.” His eyes cooled.
“Kashton!” A low growl started in the back of my throat.
His shoulders rose and held. He was tightening up. “I do not want the authorities to get my brother.Iwant my brother. And I have a team that can do it, but it’s going to take time.”
“A team?” I remembered what he said last night. “How many more teams do you have?”
He blinked a little, like I’d thrown him with that question. He raked a hand over his head. “Like I said, I have one team helping with research, whatever that entails.”
Research. Whatever that entails.
Why did that not sound legal? Though I wasnotjudging. At all. If I did, I might as well start sharing a cell with him.
