Not a surprise. Generally, sadistic bastards weren’t capable of achieving criminal mastermind status. Where Gray was concerned, Bodak’s motives were simple. He wanted her for a plaything. Why Wright had offered her up—nobody knew.
According to Sam, they were working to prevent a verified threat to national security from coming to fruition. A well-positioned political figure, Wright was the target Colonel William Grayson and his Joint Task Team were after.
Sam was an operative.
It explained a lot. Bodak, Wright, even the JTT, Sam had them all convinced he played on their team. Grant knew better. Sam Black didn’t belong to any of them. He was a loner, and he intended to stay that way.
Stitches itching like a bitch, Grant rubbed a thumb absentmindedly over his left brow, the cup of coffee still in his hand. It would be another day or two before he could cut them out. Until then, they served as a reminder. Grace Grayson was hard on the head. And based on his exposure to the rest of the Grayson clan, sure as shit it was a family trait.
What the hell was he doing here? Grant put his mug down harder than he meant to, the sound lost in the nearly full diner. This wasn’t his battle. By his calculations, the days of fast rides and fat paychecks were numbered, and he needed the money, so why stick around?
A secure text from Sam had him palming his phone off the counter.See the news?
Grant shook his head as he typed.Fucking Jackson.
Be ready. Gray’s going to drink, vomit, and run.
In that order?
Maybe not.
10-4.Under the impression the conversation had ended, Grant put his phone down only to pick it right back up when it pinged again.
Heads up, F & R work for Wright. Watch your back.
Fuck. This situation had just gone from bad to worse.Can I shoot first?
Sure.No kill shots. One more thing. JTT know you’re in Palo Pinto.
WTF. This is gonna cost you.
Transferring money now. How’s my car?
You kidding me? I traded it for a Dallas Stars cap and a case of beer.
CHAPTERTWENTY-FOUR
Gray woke alone—withChase in the room. She hadn’t heard him come in or Tak leave, but she knew he waited for her. He took up space, or shifted the air, or maybe her body had become attuned to his. Whatever the reason, he’d come back, and he wanted to talk.
Persistent fucker.
He hadn’t given up on her. Not yet. But he would. She’d see to it. Maybe in an hour—or two. Because right now was too fucking early for a battle of wills with Captain Testosterone.
The edge of the mattress dipped under his weight, and she squeezed her eyelids tighter. His fingers swept down her temple, brushing her hair off her face. She held her breath as his lips followed the path of his fingers, a feathery touch leaving tingling skin in its wake.
“Baby, we need to talk.”
She turned her head and opened her eyes. His face hovered over hers, his eyes black and intense. “I don’t want to talk to you,” she grumbled, and closing her lids, she attempted to turn away.
He caught her chin, and holding her in place, he kissed her gently, a soft press of his lips. No pressure. No demands. No bullshit. Her lips parted, and he came inside, his tongue sliding against hers.
Sweet and tender, the kiss crushed her soul, and she hated herself for wanting it.
Her hands found his chest, and she pushed against him. Immovable. He took his time finishing what he’d started before dragging his lips off hers and leaving her breathless.
“We need to talk,” he said again.
“Tak already told me about Holly. Nothing’s changed. Please, just leave me alone.”
