His phone buzzes, sharp and urgent, killing the mood.
“Hold that thought.”
Cipher moves to the end of the bed and grabs his phone from his pants pocket. He reads the screen but doesn’t show me the message. I see the shift in his face, though and I recognize theshadow that moves over his tight expression. The flicker of fear and fury have my heart seizing.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, suddenly scared.
He looks at me sideways. “A very bad man escaped from Savage cells. One of the prospects got jumped, and he was overpowered.”
Oh, no. “Who?”
He releases a line of curses. “Jax. He’s new or came in after you.”
“He’s not a good person, Harlow.” His voice is rough, quiet. “How many people know about this place?”
“None. It’s my secret place. I inherited it from an uncle last summer.” My heart pounds harder.
“And your place in the city?”
“Locked up for the season. I’m here until the new year, right?”
He nods, silent for a beat. “Why were you at the Den last night?”
“I needed some extra cash for the holidays.” I shrug, lying through my teeth.
“So you took up underground fighting?” He raises a brow, smirking.
“Bruises are easy to explain away in my line of work.”
He just grunts. “Liar.”
I look away, hair falling in my face. I shove it back, annoyed. “If you insist on leaving me cuffed, can you at least put my hair up? It’s driving me crazy. There’s a hair tie over there.”
He chuckles, gets up, finds my hair tie from the nightstand, and pulls my hair back into a low ponytail with those careful, brutal hands. His cock is still hard, and it’s impossible not to stare when he’s standing in my face.
And he knows it.
“Easy, baby,” he murmurs softly.
“Fuck you, Cipher.” There’s no heat to my words, and that just pisses me off more.
He brushes a few loose strands from my face. His fingers graze my scalp and right on cue my whole body tingles.
“I’m going to be honest with you, Harlow.”
“I know I’m on a list,” I cut in. I would rather he actually talk about us, but if he wants to suddenly keep it about business, fine.
“You already know I’m building a case against Veles Antonov and the Vultures. And I know you and your crew are trying to fight them from your end.”
His brows lift showing a slight surprise.
I shrug. “What kind of FBI agent would I be if I didn’t know what was going on around me? I also know the Vultures’ president went missing a while back. Maybe three weeks.”
He neither confirms nor denies my suspicion.
“Mm-hmm.” I jut a chin toward the phone in his hand. “I’m going to go out on a limb here and say the man who escaped is one Grayson “Grudge” Caine?”
Instead of answering me on that again, he shifts his focus and grabs for his jeans. But he doesn’t pull them on. Instead, he pins me with a hard look filled with worry.
