“Why not? My most identifiable feature is the hair.”
I kiss her tenderly. “Hon, your most identifiable feature is that you’re stunning.”
Kip scoots his chair closer and holds her hand. “Agreed.”
“Y’all are sweet. I’m still doing the maid thing, though.”
Chapter 26
Kaden
God, turning state’s evidence is boring.
After I was arrested, it took some convincing to get the cops to realize that I wasn’t the perpetrator of the altered contracts. Then it tookmoreconvincing to get them to realize that I was a victim in all this. I had to do some creative storytelling, which I suck at. That’s Mags’s forte, not mine.
Finally, on the second day, enough of the real victims of the Langleys had given their witness accounts that the feds realized I wasn’t part of the trafficking. Unfortunately, they decided that Iama crucial part of their investigation, so they won’t let me go.
No phone calls. No outside contact.
I debated reopening the twin and pack bonds so everyone back home knows I’m okay, but I don’t know if the federal agents can track that. Mags undoubtedly gave them false contact information and a bogus address when she gave her statement, and I don’t want to be the reason the feds discover their location.
I miss Mags. I miss my twin. Hell, I even miss Nik. Kip and Mags have been my family my whole life, and Nik’s been with usfor years. We’ve built a unit, created a safe space with each other, and I feel empty without that space.
This stupid sequestration slash witness protection or whatever would be more tolerable if there was something to watch on TV. There’s nothing but bad daytime programming and worse evening programming. From eleven o’clock until the morning news at six, there’s nothing but static. I guess the motel manager doesn’t spring for cable.
Sleeping is an issue, too. I can’t sleep without Mags or Kip breathing in the room with me. Kip snores, yeah, but hearing them breathing … It provides a certain feeling of security.
I don’t feel secure here. The lead agent in charge, Agent Elgin, told me that they’re still hunting down the owners of the shell company, DeltaCorp, which means my life is still in danger. I can’t leave the motel room, I can’t open the curtains, and I can’t even open the door unless the agent on the other side gives the code word. My replacement towels come from the agents; my little motel soaps and shampoos come from them. Even the ice bucket gets filled by them.
To her credit, Agent Elgin offered to extend her protection to my pack, but the timing of that offer was suspicious, so I didn’t take the bait.
Why would she wait until my fourth day in custody to offer? It doesn’t make any sense.
It’s also a little weird that she showed up this morning wearing a temporary ID badge. I’m starting to wonder if maybe I’m in a little over my head. Is Agent Elgin even a fed? Like, what happened to the badge she was wearing yesterday? Is she a DeltaCorp plant?
I wish Mags was here. She could tell if Agent Elgin was legit just by looking at her. Mags has a sixth sense when it comes to authority figures.
Checking the time, I see that it’s almost eleven: lights out. The TV will be static soon, and I’ll have another night of staring at the ceiling ahead of me. They could at least provide a poster or something up there.
Like a poster of Mags.
Full body.
Nude.
Sadly, there’s no poster, but I have my memory. I also have a small bottle of motel lotion, some tissues, and enough imagination to place a ghost Mags in bed with me.
Mags straddles my lap, her glistening pussy already wet with her slick. As she pulls her thick pink curls into a ponytail, I reach out to stroke her round, full breasts. She sighs and leans into my touch, and her nipples pebble under my palms.
“Finally alone,” I say. “We can finally enjoy each other without Nik or my brother here.”
She giggles and lowers herself onto my cock. “What? You don’t like pack life?”
“I love my brother, and I tolerate Nik, but I’m in love with you. We haven’t had a chance to learn how our bodies work together yet. I want that.”
Before Ghost Mags can answer, a sudden knock at the motel room door jerks me back to reality—before I’ve even started jerking in earnest.
I scramble to throw off the covers, grab my borrowed sweats, and get into them, falling off the bed in the process and landing uncomfortably on my side. I lie there, groaning in pain, wriggling into my pants and waiting for the required password.
