“You’re done here, Agent.” Hunter crosses his arms, taking up an immovable stance.
Huntley goes toe to toe with Hunter. “I don’t think so. I have more questions to ask Miss Foster.”
“You can direct those questions to her lawyer, who you’ll be hearing from anyway.” Hunter keeps his face calm, but his tone can’t be taken for anything else other than threatening.
Luke whispers to me over Savannah’s head, “Do we have a connection in the FBI office?”
“I’ll get one,” I answer.
Savannah looks at the two of us with a crease in her forehead.
“Huntley!” A burly man with a blond bun dressed in a suit storms in our direction. Hunter stands taller, squaring his shoulders, while Luke and I shield Savannah in our arms.
“What the fuck are you doing here, Dawson? This isn’t your case.” Huntley’s lips curl back, showing his teeth slightly. He stands a whole head shorter than the other man.
Dawson places his hands on his hips. “It is now. You’ve been reassigned.”
“On what grounds?” Huntley challenges.
“Talk to Marreli. I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to explain.” Dawson is extremely calm. Almost too calm.
Huntley’s nostrils flare. Staring at Dawson, he addresses his partner, “Let’s go, Cassidy.”
“No, not Cassidy,” Dawson corrects. “Just you.”
“Where the fuck do you get off?”
“Again, they’re not my orders, Travis. They’re from Marreli. Apparently, you’ve had one too many complaints lately.” Dawson is smug as hell. He walked in holding all the cards, and he knows it.
“Fuck you,” Huntley bites.
“Whatever.” Dawson brushes Agent Huntley aside, stepping around him toward us, but Hunter keeps his place, standing sentry. Dawson quirks a brow. Keeping eye contact with Hunter, he communicates with Savannah, “I’m sorry about that, Miss Foster. Are you okay?”
Savannah tries to pull away from Luke and me, but we refuse to let go of our connection. She rises on her toes, poking her head over Hunter’s shoulder. “Yeah, I’m good. I’m no novice when it comes to the moods of Agent Huntley.”
“I’ll make sure you never have to deal with him again,” Dawson reassures her.
“Good,” Hunter responds for Savannah.
Dawson turns a smug smile on Hunter. “And you are?”
Savannah stutters, unsure how to answer. “They’re—umm—my employ?—”
“We’re her boyfriends,” I reply for her.
Savannah’s eyes widen, then she turns to Dawson to deny my answer. “No. No, they’re not.”
“Yes, we are,” Luke contradicts, and Agent Cassidy chuckles off to the side, but Dawson doesn’t look the least bit phased.
“Can we hurry this up? We need to get our girlfriend home.” Hunter pushes.
Savannah lets out a frustrated grumble. “But they’re not?—”
“Relax, Trouble,” Luke interrupts. “We’re here.”
“And who are you?” Hunter asks.
Displaying his credentials, he responds, “Agent Asher Dawson.”
