Dirty Tycoons Collection by Reiss CD

Author:Reiss, CD [Reiss, CD]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-09-27T05:00:00+00:00

I pull the car to the side of the road and call the number on the back of the Post-It. The two-lane road is thinly lined with trees, newly paved, with a sharp double yellow in the middle that goes straight a long way before disappearing into a single point.

“Keaton,” I say when a ring cuts off and I can hear someone breathing. “You left this number.”

“I have something for you.” He’s clipped and businesslike. I thought I’d never hear his demanding British voice again, and when I do, I catch myself smiling. With Ken outrunning me, I needed the help, and the package it came in made my nerves vibrate.

He continues. “It might be of use.”

“Might?”

“I believe—”

“You believe?” I tap the steering wheel as I decide how much more to tell him, and how, because it will determine how much I want from him. I open my mouth to carefully ask what “might” might mean. That’s not what comes out. “I don’t have time for ‘might,’ okay? Or ‘I believe.’ I’m getting steamrolled over here. Actually, if I come in with something ‘you believe might’ not be exactly perfect, I’m going to get laughed at, and I have to tell you, getting laughed at is going to put me over the fucking edge.”

I should be ashamed of my behavior in front of a man I barely know, but here’s the rub. I’m not ashamed at all. As a matter of fact, I feel a little relieved to have it off my chest.

“I like the fight in you,” he says.

“I don’t like having to show it.”

There’s a silence that’s kind of comfortable, kind of tense. I can’t discern where he is from the background buzz.

“Cassie?”

“Yeah?”

“I want to see you again.”

He doesn’t mean he wants to wave from the window. That’s for sure.

“Is that a good idea?”

It isn’t. He knows it. For better or worse, once he passes me information on an active case, he’s an asset. I don’t know what kind of trouble this can land him in with the players in his world, but for me it’s a no-no.

“It’s a terrible idea,” he says flatly.

I smile and look at my lap. He said it as a fact, and in stating it as a fact, he made it somewhat less terrible and completely unavoidable.

When I ask the next question, my voice sounds softer and lower than I intend. “When?”

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