I hadn’t just crossed a fucking line last night, I’d obliterated it. Gladly. In the moment—when I was around her—I hadn’t bothered thinking aboutanylines or the consequences. All I cared about was her—the taste of her, the sound of her, the feel of her. She was all I could see. She was all I wanted—had been all I fucking wanted from the day she told me she would kill me if anything happened to Carrie. Her anger, filled with passion and spite, had made me feel something for the first time in a very long time. That day, as she pressed her black-painted fingernail into the center of my chest, I came alive again. That was 423 days ago. When I wasn’t on a hunt, I was thinking about her. When I was on a hunt, it was torture being so far away from Portland—from Astoria.
She wasn’t mine to protect, and yet? From the moment I found her curled up on the floor of that damn fishing shed, I’d needed to protect her. This need wasn’t just annoying; it was all-consuming, and last night…last night should’ve been our beginning.
I’d only gotten a taste of happiness before it was torn out of my hands.
So no, I wasn’t okay and I wouldn’t be anytime soon. However, telling Grayson this would only complicate things. Complications made things hard to forget. I couldn’t forget her if any of the guys knew. Lying was the only option. “I’m fine. Just stopped in for a beer after the hunt,” I told him.
“Did the client get everything settled?” he asked.
I nodded. “Jake had the money transferred to the Red Snake account this morning,” I told him. The hunt had been an easy one, just below the border of Canada. An old employee of our client had run off with over thirty thousand dollars of investment money, and the police investigation had been taking too long, according to the client. Unsurprisingly, this wasn’t thefirst time something like this had happened. In fact, it happened just about three times a quarter; pissed-off employees stealing from their bosses. The story was always the same, and for us, it was usually easy money. The job took just over seventy-two hours, and when I was driving back home, I made a right instead of a left, heading to the coast. Truth be told, I don’t know why I did it. If I was being honest with myself, I didn’t really care for Astoria. It was a quiet town, but also a small town.
In small towns, privacy didn’t exist.
“Good,” Gray muttered, bringing his hand to the back of his neck.
“Still hurting?” I asked, watching him closely. Red Snake hadn’t been the same since he’d gotten shot, but I didn’t have the heart to bring that truth to light.
As usual, he waved me off. “Don’t worry about me, Mitchell.”
“Always do.” I moved to the front of my desk, mentally done with the day. I hadn’t even been to my apartment yet. After leaving Margo’s this morning, I drove here, my mind trapped in the memories of us while my body ran on autopilot. By the time I was able to shove down the pain, I was in the parking garage. I showered and changed and was buried in work by the time the rest of the guys showed.
“You sure you’re okay?” he pressed, stepping farther into my office. “Nothing happened on the hunt?”
I shook my head. “It was pretty cut-and-dry. The suspect didn’t get far.”
He nodded. “Okay. Well, I’m headed out. Just wanted to check in.”
I jerked my chin. “Thanks, man.”
The tension in my jaw was still present by the time he disappeared into the hall, leaving my door wide open. My eyes narrowed. He and the rest of these fuckers always left my dooropen when they felt I needed to socialize. “Fuckers,” I muttered, running a hand over my hair.
“Hayes,” she breathed, her fingers stretching through my short hair as her thighs began to shake.
“Yeah,” I grunted, feeling her nails scrape against my scalp, my hips pumping. “Take it, Temper.”
“Fucking hell,” I groaned, turning and bracing my hands on the desk. I dropped my head, my chest heaving now as the memories flooded me again.
I’d made a lot of mistakes in my life, but last night?
Last night might have been the worst of them all.
I closed my eyes, squeezing the lids as I bit down, not letting up until I felt the familiar ache in my jaw.
There was nothing I could do to stop the memories from coming out now. All day, I’d been holding it in, pushing back against the mental wall. I thought work would distract me, and my plan had been successful, until Grayson had forced his way into the bubble.
“How in the fuck did he even know I was in Astoria last night?” I muttered to myself, pinching the bridge of my nose as I straightened.
“He tracks us.”
My hand fell away from my face as I stared out the windows behind my desk, taking in the dark clouds and the raindrops running down the glass. It always rained here—I couldn’t stand it. The rain was depressing.
“Dominic,” I greeted, rounding my desk and taking a seat. I glanced at him, slightly irritated that he didn’t knock. Then again, he never fucking did. I couldn’t tell if that was because of his ego or because he just didn’t give a shit.
“You’ve been busy today,” he noted, sitting on the leather couch against the wall. My irritation multiplied as he placed his feet on the glass-top coffee table, crossing his ankles as he leanedback, stretching his arms wide. “How many new clients do we have?”
“Enough for you to buy me a new coffee table when you eventually break that one,” I mumbled, pulling up the client file and reprinting the page I’d fucked up. “Also, tell Ash that he isn’t allowed to buy any more supplies.”
Dominic clicked his tongue and pursed his lips. “That’s a shame. His Navy contacts were an excellent way of getting things fast.”