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“Chill-lax, Priss. This is old hat for my brother. He never sleeps. He’s your textbook insomniac.”
Simone looks at me with worried eyes, a deep V forming between her brows. “Is the moron talking out of his ass again, or is it true?”
Sensing she’s concerned for my well-being, I take her delicate hands in mine. “He’s not bullshitting. All-nighters are normal for me. The only time I get any solid rest is when I’m sleeping with you.”
Punk gags. “TMI, man!”
Ignoring him, I gaze at Simone. Those stormy gray eyes of hers I adore lose all their hardness. She reaches up to run a hand through my long hair.
“Chase…”
Desperate for a kiss, I cup her face and lean toward her tempting lips. Leave it to my idiotic brothers to mock our happy moment with overzealousawes.
“Piss off,” I snap, finally reaching my tolerance threshold. I’m not afraid to show affection in front of my brothers, but I sure as hell don’t like being teased for being openly sweet with my woman. There’s only so much a biker will take.
“Not until we address how we’re going to handle Cynthia,” Punk rebukes.
Simone grimaces. “I understand why you might consider her a suspect, but I’m telling you guys, this is above her brink of understanding.”
Punk rolls his eyes. “Your opinion is biased because you hate her, Priss.”
“It isn’t biased if I’m stating a fact. Yes, I dislike the uppity bitch. But if I was driven by hate, I’d be all for our crew pinning her down with this crime.”
Butch backs her up. “She’s got a point. We don’t know this chick. Simone does.”
“Who cares if Cynthia’s elevator doesn’t go to the top floor? You said yourself the way the perp was going about transferring funds wasn’t always smart,” Punk gripes. “They handled large amounts half-ass. Sure sounds like it could be your ex-boss. Smart or dumb, she’s our number one suspect as of this moment. We need to proceed with caution around her.”
“For now, we don’t do anything other than what we have already been doing. Simone, you’ll continue to comb through the hard copies and compare them to the digital records using your new laptop and scanner. Butch will work on tracking where the money’s going from the info Simone collects. I’ll monitor the surveillance footage. Hopefully, by the end of the day tomorrow I can start inputting the account info into the algorithm program.
“Punk will keep his eyes and ears open. When you aren’t watching Simone, I want you to observe Cynthia. If she’s gutsy enough to start an embezzlement operation, we can’t say what other risks she’d take. For now, we treat her as a threat to our operation and persons.”
A knock at our door has us all falling silent. Punk bounds to his feet. “Put a bookmark in the planning, bro. That would be the dinner bell. If we’re going to be up all night working on this shit, we need to fuel up.”
He’s not wrong. It’s going to be a long night.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-ONE
CHASE
The night has been a real ball-buster. The team helped until the early hours of the morning. Outside of Butch, the other two couldn’t do much but keep us alert and fetch us caffeinated beverages.
When Butch yawned, I told everyone to go to bed. Simone needs her energy for the mountain of files left to investigate, and Punk needs to be on the lookout. Only Butch and I are monitoring the tech end of this operation, and one of us needs to be fully functional for the workday.
Though I’m accustomed to lack of rest, it doesn’t mean I enjoy it. Especially when my woman is sprawled across our bed, looking like a lingerie model in her satin night romper and hair an unruly mess of wheat-colored waves across the sheets.
Goddamn, she’s a beautiful sight. I’ll never grow tired of staring at her. The more I see her, the more I crave her. I’m a junkie for her, and she’s my fix.
My eyes drift above the screen of my laptop, often throughout the night, to gaze at her. Seeing my queen in her slumber is enough of a reminder to keep my head in the game if I want this assignment to wrap up in time. The sooner we finish, the sooner I can get Simone back home to start our new life together—far the fuck away from Trent.
I’ve been awake nearly two days straight. Between me and Simone fighting the previous day and creating a program to help decipher the embezzler’s method of operation, I’m fried.
When my eyes fight to stay open, I throw in the towel. There’s enough time for me to catch a few hours of sleep before another day starts.
With sluggish limbs, I strip down to my boxer briefs and slip under the sheets. My arms circle around my queen, drawing her warm body close to mine. Simone immediately rolls against my side, her head nuzzling my chest. Her body instinctively knows where she’s meant to be—wrapped in my embrace.
Unable to stay awake a second longer, my eyes roll back in my head. A sigh of contentment blows slowly past my lips as my mind shuts down and I sink into sleep.
I haven’t been asleep for more than an hour when an annoying buzz has my eyes cracking open. With a groan, I wipe the sleep from my lids. Simone’s cell is lit up on the nightstand with a text notification. I monitor all incoming and outgoing messages within the MC, and there’s only one person who drops Simone messages at odd hours.
