“I don’t give a shit what people think.”
“But she will,” he pinches the bridge of his nose. “And I do too. This isn’t exactly how I thought shit would go for me.”
“Yeah well, life throws curveballs,” I finish the beer and toss it in the recycle box making the glass clatter. Mace watches me as I grab another and pop the cap off. “You never thought you’d be wearing that either,” I point my bottle at his chest. “You made your peace with that.”
“This is different. You and me,” he lets out a sarcastic laugh. “We’re not friends. And I’m getting pretty fucking tired of you telling me what to do.”
I swipe a hand through my wet hair. “Never took you for a liar, Mace.”
“You’re really asking for a throat punch right now.”
“Only us here,” I shrug. “If you really didn’t like it, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. You would have walked away.”
Without giving him a chance to respond I walk out of the kitchen because it’s fucking cold and there is a sweatshirt on the back of the couch. I drag it on and brush water droplets off my face.
Mace steps into my line of vision as I drop down onto the sofa.
“And for the record,” I smirk at him. “I never once told you what to do.”
His jaw clenches but he can’t argue with the truth. I’ll let him sit with that for a little while. He’s right about one thing, it’s not exactly a relationship but it’s a start.
“What did you want to tell me about Marshall?”
His expression changes, grows harder than I have seen it in a while. “We found someone who knows what happened. He’s at the shed.”
“In Sussex?”
“I don’t have one yet.”
“Does Ballisticknow about this?”
“I didn’t pick the lock. Before I change my mind and walk the fuck out of here, you want to get dressed and come talk to him?”
Part of me hates that she’s being left out of it. There isn’t a lot I can do about it given where the guy is. She will understand. And maybe after we’ve talked to this asshole and figured shit out, we can go talk to her. The two of us.
Mace is staring at me like he has the exact same thoughts on his mind.
He’s unsure my ass.
“Give me five.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Cassie
“Miss Beillo, can I have a word?” The woman stops at my side as I wait for the elevator up to my office.
“Sorry, I’m late for a meeting.”
“It’ll only take a second.”
She doesn’t look dangerous, but I always have my guard up when I’m dealing with strangers. “You have until the elevator gets here.”
“I want to talk to you about Vance Roderick.”
It’s hard to hide my surprise over that. Usually I’m good at masking my emotions but when it comes to that prick I struggle.
I eye her again, she looks professional in dark blue slacks and a white blouse, she’s the same height as me but wearing flats where I have heels on, and her red hair it thick and bouncy with large curls. Everything about her screams expensive.
