“Call me Ryker. It’s a - a nickname.”
Cat’s eyebrows knit together. Her lower lip juts out, and it’s all I can do not to lean forward and bite it. I do not know what the fuck has come over me.
Plus, I told her my nickname. As if that’s not the first rule of undercover work.Don’t tell people your real name.
I couldn’t help myself, however. I didn’t want that soft motherfucker’s name to pass her lips one more time.
My dick stirs to life as I think of other things I’d like to pass over her lips. I shift in my seat. It’s going to be a tough couple of days.
“Let’s get something straight,” Cat hisses. “Thismisogyny with a side of musclesthing you got going for you is nice and all, but we’re here to do a job. We need to track down two convicts A-S-A-P!”
Her eyes widen with a fire that I want to consume. But, she’s right. We do have a fucking job to do.
I shift in my seat and watch the waitress bring back our drinks.
“Need anything else?”
“Nah, just the check, Persis,” Cat smiles at the waitress, who shakes her head.
“Nope. On the house,” she smirks. “You have two bad guys to track down.”
“You working when the crash happened?” I ask her.
Cat tsks at me. Maybe she already asked.
Persis shakes her head, and not one strand of her not-natural red hair moves. “Nope. Had a nail appointment that day. See?”
She holds up her hands. Her nails were filed into sharp points, like claws. Each nail had a different design on it.
“They’re nice,” Cat glares at me. “And Persis already talked to the investigators.”
I shrug. I didn’t give a shit who she already talked to. If we were tracking down fugitives, we needed to start from the beginning.
“Okay, then,” Cat places a ten-dollar bill on the table. “Maybe we’ll be back for lunch after our meeting.”
I follow her to the parking lot.
Once we’re outside, I turn to her. “Do you think it’s a good idea to tell people where you’re going?”
“Normally, no,” Cat unlocks her rental sedan. “But, it’s not like Persis is on the bad guy’s payroll. She’s been working there for decades. And -as you know- the Marshals Service checks out every business within a ten-mile radius of the prison, so we know which way to transport criminals to trial. Or their next maximum security home.”
I don’t know what to say to that, so I get in the passenger side of the car.
She fires up the engine and glances at me. “You going to be okay with the little lady driving today?”
I smirk. “I’ll allow it.”
Cat huffs, rolls her eyes, and then steers toward the nearby federal prison.
I shouldn’t be enjoying this, but I am.
And that’s a dangerous place to be.
???
“They’re both dangerous, but also not dangerous,” Warden McFarland is talking a mile a minute as he walks through the Ridgeway Prison. The man is in his 50s and getting redder in the face by the minute. I was worried he’d have a heart attack in front of us.
I’m also worried Cat will murder him with her bare hands because he refuses to talk to her.
