Her eyes light on me and she relaxes, pulling her shirt the rest of the way down. “Oh my gods, are you okay?”
Something hot and possessive flares in my chest at the knowledge that she ran out of here likethat, forme.
“Well, that answers that question,” he quips.
Her eyes snap to him. And that adorable crease appears on her brow.
“Shut it,” I growl at him before turning to her. “I’m fine. It’s alright. This fucker forgot he should call first before trespassin’ on private property.” I poke a thumb towards Jax.
He puts a hand to his chest and feigns hurt, but the grin on his face tells another story. “Rude, and after I drove all night with intel that’ll make Sokolov wish he’d never left Myshkin.”
He tosses a thumb drive at me, I catch it and turn my attention to Seriph.
“Go back inside,” I demand harsher than I mean to, then softer. “It’s cold out here.”
Jax snorts, “Smooth.”
I take a swing at him and he sidesteps with a laugh, holding his hands up again in mock surrender. Meanwhile, she’s standing in the doorway trying to figure out what the hell is going on.
“Intel better be worth it,” I grumble, before rubbing my temple.
“Oh, it is.” He shifts his weight, a manila folder tucked under one arm. “Bank account numbers, some offshore accounts, safe house locations. Even found out who Sokolov’s got on payroll inside the local PD.”
There’s a sharp intake of breath from the porch.
“Get inside.” I wave my hand at the cabin. She doesn’t need to worry about this with everything else she’s carrying on her shoulders right now.
“It’s not like you have to hide shit from me. I’m already a dead woman walking,” she replies stubbornly, crossing her arms.
Her hip juts to the side and I have to fight to focus on the conversation. Then I remember what made her come out here in the first place and my temper flares.
“So that gives you the right to go runnin’ after a gunshot?” I snap in warning but I’m silently pleading with her.
Jax looks from me to her like we’re in some kind of tennis match. The smirk on his face grows wider at whatever he ‘thinks’ he’s seeing.
“I thought you could be hurt!” she tosses back.
That possessive feeling heats my chest again and I have to push it away.
“Was I supposed to leave you to bleed out?” Her hands are on her hips.
“Yeah,” I growl again, taking a step in the direction of the cabin. I can’t tell if I want to drag her inside or lay Jax out to relieve some of this frustration. “That’s exactly what you weresupposed to do.” My voice drops to a register only she seems to be able to pull out of me. “Because if I am hurt? First thing Sokolov’s men are gonna do is put a bullet inyoufor runnin’ toward them like a goddamned idiot.”
Jax whistles from behind me. “Damn, someone woke up on the stabby side of the bed this morning.”
There’s an intensity that makes the air feel charged. My jaw works and I bite back ten different things I want to say. I grit out, “You don’t run toward gunfire, Seriphina.” Her name rolls off my tongue with something that curls low in my gut and refuses to let go. “Not for me. Not for anyone.” I don’t add that if she got hurt because of me, it would wreck me in ways that bullets never could. It’s simmering under the surface like an ember waiting to ignite.
Jax clears his throat. “Uh, I’m just gonna...” He gestures behind him before backing away slowly.
Before he can take another step, Seriph throws up her hands. “Ugh, whatever!” Turning on her heel, she stomps inside and slams the door.
I sigh and rub my hand over my face. I think I could count on one hand how many times I’ve done that in my life before meeting her. This woman infuriates me in ways I didn’t know were possible. I stare at the cabin for a long hard moment. I know I have no right to tell her what to do. But, goddamn it, the mere thought of her running into danger for me sets my skin on fire and has my heart beating like a fucking jackhammer. I have to stop myself from storming in there after her, throwing her against the wall and telling her how fucking reckless she is. All while having her close enough to feel every word as it vibrates from my chest. Instead, I turn around to face Jax, giving him a glare that says ‘don’t fucking start’ and I yank the file folder out of his hand.
“Talk,” I grumble, while flipping through the contents of the folder. “What else you got?”
He wisely keeps his remarks to himself and gets down to business. “You told me to look into the three men that went into her store the other night. Well, I found them. Names, addresses, how far up the fucking totem pole to Sokolov. Everything you need to know to do whatever it is you’re planning. You gonna tell me what happened?”
“No.” I stop on the photos. Two of the faces I recognize from her store last night. One I remember tailing to a rundown house on the edge of town. Viktor Andreev, Stepan Tarasov, and Yuri Popov, all three born in the states with familial ties to Russian mafia. Low-level guys trying to make a name for themselves through Sokolov. Too bad for them, they aren’t going to live long enough to climb that ladder. I study their faces before turning a few more pages. Jax continues rattling off information he dug up.
