“They wanted to know about my partner’s whereabouts, transit schedules, that sort of thing,” Tyler answers. “I didn’t think there’d be any harm in it.”
An angry red hue creeps out of the collar of Cat’s shirt and spreads across her face. “No? You didn’t think any harm would come of it? A domestic terrorist tried to kill my sister and an Indiana sheriff. He did kill two U.S. Marshals during his escape. Including your so-calledgirlfriend.”
“That’s not my fault!”
I’ve seen enough. I have my knife at Tyler’s throat in a split second. “Enough. It’s your fault. And you need to point this nice lady in the direction of the bad guys. Now.”
Tyler starts crying. Then, he pisses his pants. He doesn’t take his eyes off me, but then again, I am right in his motherfucking face.
“Paper,” Tyler sniffles. “Get me some paper and a pen.”
Chapter 30
“Concussion. Con-schmussion.”
-Cat
Once Tyler Drummond wrote down his information, we invited him to be a permanent guest at the Saber Security safe house for the foreseeable future. He was the only living witness, as far as we knew, and when we brought the fugitives to justice, we’d need him to testify in court.
If we brought the fugitives to justice.
My ordinarily black and white view of the law has gotten a little gray over the last few days.
“Play stupid games, win stupid prizes,” Tatiana’s Southern drawl pulls me out of my thoughts.
“What?” I blink at the video screen.
She grins and wiggles her eyebrows. “I’m saying when the Lord gave out brains, Tyler Drummond thought he said ‘trains’ and passed because he didn’t like to travel. Dumbass didn’t cover his tracks very well.”
Celia and Flint are on screen as well. Tatiana clicks a few keys, and we see the dark web code scroll up next to the video conference.
“What are we looking at, T?” Flint folds his arms.
“This right here is the coded communication between our boy Tyler and Dakota Helfinger,” Tatiana clucks her tongue. “It’s like they weren’t even trying to hide their shit.”
“Plain English, T,” Celia winks.
“Right, look here - half of the messages aren’t even hidden. You might not have noticed it if you were looking at the transcript from the prison, but it’s there in plain sight. Here’s Tyler offering to spring him from prison so he could go after Cam,” Tatiana highlights the conversation.
My blood pressure skyrockets. I’m about to find Tyler and punch him a few times when a warm hand presses against my lower back.
“Easy, Kitten,” Ryker whispers.
Shit. Now my heart is pumping for another reason. I close my eyes, trying to steady my breaths, but all I can do is remember what it felt like to have Ryker’s hands all over me in the shower last night.
The callouses on the palms of his hands and his fingertips where he grips his Harley and his knife.
These thoughts do nothing to calm me down. They’re only succeeding in heating my core until I’m sure my underwear is soaking wet.
Ryker clears his throat, and when I open my eyes, he’s staring at me with dilated pupils and flared nostrils.
“If y’all are done eye-fucking each other, can we get back to the meeting?” Tatiana’s exasperated voice forces my eyelids to fly open.
The shit-eating grin on Celia’s face is enough to throw a bucket of cold water on my hormones.
“I’m thinking about payback for Tyler’s idiocy,” I grunt.
“Yeah, sure you were,” Celia winks. “Denial is not just a river in Africa.”
