Page 96 of The Stalker Snafu

“Don’t hurt her,” Adrian whispered before his brother finally let go of my sore limb. I gave him a glare and massaged my shoulder.

“She wasn’t moving fast enough,” Rafe said in his defense. He squeezed further in with a grunt. “The space gets narrower the further we go back. How’s your side?”

“We’re in far enough,” Adrian answered, and his brother stopped inching back just as the gate squeaked open. I sucked in a breath as two male voices passed by the shed.

I shifted my weight before settling between the twins and wrapping my arms around my middle.

Rafe turned until he was mostly facing us, but his front still touched the side of the shed. Adrian’s chest moved against my back with each breath.

I swallowed, all too aware of their bodies brushing mine. “Well, this is cozy.”

Neither of them commented on our proximity.

Instead, Rafe cursed under his breath and looked like he wanted to punch something. “The binoculars.”

“I grabbed them,” Adrian whispered. He held his hand up high enough for us to see the black binoculars on his other side.

Rafe breathed a sigh of relief.

“Anyone care to explain why we’re hiding back here?” I asked quietly. Adrian and the shed blocked me from seeing anything, but a door banged shut before the voices disappeared. “Or share who showed up to the party?”

“No one you need to know about,” Rafe said without even looking at me.

But it was too late for him to dismiss it. Their decision to squeeze all three of us behind a shed instead of saying hey to the new arrivals was already doing a great job of freaking me out. “I’m serious. Who is it? Noah isn’t in danger, is he?”

Adrian shifted next to me before talking so low I needed to lean in to hear. “Kincaid’s fine. That was our handler. He can’t see us here.”

“Handler? What are you, a dog?”

“Rian!” Rafe muttered a few choice curses. “Both of you shut your mouths.”

Adrian muttered under his breath as my heart threatened to beat out of my chest. Who the heck were these guys? They had a handler.

Who else had handlers? Working animals. Baggage at the airport. … Spies.

I sucked in a breath. It made sense. They talked about protocols and being in charge of each other. My mind raced at the possibilities.

“Please tell me you aren’t Russian spies,” I whispered in growing horror. “I really, really need you to not be Russian spies.”

Adrian stifled a snort. “We’re from Catalonia, remember?”

“That’s not an answer.”

My lungs worked overtime, and the space between the shed and fence felt a lot smaller than a moment ago.

“Hey. You okay?” Adrian asked, somehow even closer. That did nothing to help my lack of oxygen.

“Yeah.” The word was barely even a whisper. I scratched my arms, avoiding focusing on how close the shed was to my nose. “Or no. I don’t know. I’m trying to understand what’s going on, but it doesn’t make any sense. Why would Catalonia send spies here?”

“Nobody sent spies⁠—”

“Don’t lie to me.” My brows pulled together. “You have protocols. Handlers. You act like Noah being on that list is just a normal day for you!”

“Well, none of that matters now. Just stay still,” Rafe hissed. “You’re making too much noise.”

I wanted to bop him on the head. I wasn’t trying to be noisy.

“Can we please leave now?” I asked, itching to squeeze past Adrian and run out into the open backyard. My lungs refused to take in more than a shallow breath. “They’re inside, and I need more air. It’s too stuffy back here.”