Her hands instinctively go to her ass, covering her still red cheeks.
“You can’t just keep?—”
I turn my back on her when my call is answered and step out into the hallway.
“I’m sending you a screenshot of a license plate. I need a trace on the owner.”
“Got it. Let me get to my set up.”
From the background a woman asks him how long he’s going to be.
“Did I interrupt your evening?” Through my bedroom door I see the interruption to my own evening wiggling back into her leggings.
She catches me watching and frowns. I keep staring.
“Do you care if you did?” He shoots back at me.
“Not really, no.” I move into the living room, grabbing a clean pair of jeans from the basket on the couch.
Clicking of a keyboard sounds from the other end of the line.
“Didn’t think so,” he says. “Plates running now. You know they could have swapped out plates, stolen plates, or have fake ones.”
“I know they can, but did they?” I zip up and move to the window to look down at the street.
Odds of Janis or anyone else being able to find me are minuscule, but never zero. They found Elana’s apartment faster than I thought they would. Maybe I underestimated Janis.
On the outside he appears to be a street thug with too much time on his hands, but if he’s backed by actual power there might be more of a threat than I originally assessed.
“No. They did not.” Sasha says. “The SUV is owned by a Killian Murphy”
My spine stiffens. “What’s he doing in Boston? He operates out of Detroit.”
More clicking on the other side of the phone. “He does… I remember Ivan needing information on him. If I remember correctly, there was a family connection in Boston. One second, let me do a quick search.”
Elana is standing in the doorway of the living room when I turn around. She leans against the wall with her arms folded over her chest and her eyes fixated on me.
If I thought a quick ass tanning was going to tame the fire in her, I’d be a fucking moron. But I’m not looking to extinguish the flames.
“Yes. There’s a cousin in Boston.”
“Who’s his cousin?” I ask, but the sour spot in the pit of my stomach already knows.
“Cole.” More tapping.
“I know him.”
“You have trouble?”
I stare at her lifted eyebrows and the look of impatience darkening her eyes.
“I definitely do,” I mutter. “But nothing I can’t handle.”
“Rurik mentioned a trip to the east coast. He might be out your way if you need more hands.”
“I’m hoping not to let it get to that. But good to know.”
“Sasha, are you coming back or not?” A woman demands, and I laugh.