Deep Under (Tall, Dark and Deadly #4)(62)

“I wouldn’t know how I fell,” I snap, “since I was drugged and passed out.”

Myla faces me. “Why’d she drug you?”

“Because I was trying to keep her from going after Blake, who was going after Alvarez.”

There are voices off-screen before Asher says, “Royce wants to talk to Myla.” Then giving her a nod he adds, “Myla, nice to meet you.” He firms his voice. “And all jokes aside. I have your back. You have my word.”

“Yes,” Jacob adds. “We have your back.”

Both men disappear and Royce appears, his long, dark hair tied at the nape, his trademark hard stare and the hard set to his square jaw in place. But when he says, “Hello Myla,” his voice is gentle, and friendly. “I’m Royce. I’m sure you have questions. What do you want to know?”

He’s asking if she wants to know about Kara, testing her to see if she’s distracted by personal matters. “Did you check out the locations I gave you?” she asks, proving her focus is crystal clear. She wants to save those women. She wants to get Alvarez.

There is just a flicker of surprise in Royce’s eyes that he quickly replaces with hard focus. “We’ve been up all night working on it. In every location we have trusted contractors, we confirmed active locations. In most of the others, we’ve found missing person trends that support a location in the city.”

“Then what’s the plan to get them out?” she asks.

“At this point,” I say, “we want to put together a mass raid that happens at all locations at the same time we extract you, which will be at the moment Alvarez appears.”

“That’s going to require manpower and support,” Royce adds, “which means we need to call in the FBI.”

“If you hand this over to them and they delay to act or make even a small mistake,” she says, “those locations will be gone. And if anything happens to him, and they’re not already under your control, they’ll be gone. He’s taken precautions for everything.”

“Without the FBI involved,” Royce says, “we’ll be delayed. With them we’ll have the resources to monitor, prepare, and raid those locations.”

“In other words,” I offer. “Even if the location is moved, we’ll have eyes on it, and move with it.”

“We’re on this, Myla,” Royce says. “And thanks to you, we’re going to finally get this bastard, and all his minions. But if you don’t mind, can I have a word with Kyle alone?”

My jaw clenches at the request sure to stir discomfort in Myla, though her reply is quick and cordial. “Of course. And thank you for your help.”

“Thank me in person when you are no longer in prison.”

She gives a nod and without looking at me, rounds the chair and heads to the door, exiting and shutting it.

“Whatever this is,” I begin, only to be cut off with, “Holy hell, Kyle,” Royce snaps. “Is she f*cking wearing your shirt? She’s Kara’s f*cking sister.”

My irritation is instant, and while I would gamble he’s guessing on the shirt, I don’t even try to deny it. “I seem to remember Lauren ending up in your t-shirt when you were guarding her.”

“She wasn’t traumatized by a madman,” he bites out. “And she wasn’t Kara’s sister. And yes. You are right. Lauren’s my wife. She wasn’t just a f*ck and a conquest on an undercover job.”

Now he’s pissing me off. “Myla isn’t just a f*ck and conquest.”

“You just met her.”

“I’ve been looking for her for a year.”

“You look for a lot of people. You don’t take them to your bed.”

“Exactly the f*cking point. Back off, Royce. And now, unless you have something other than a lecture, I’m going to open the door before I end up losing the trust I want from her.”

“If you hurt her-”

“If I don’t die saving her life, feel free to finish that sentence.” I end the connection, scrubbing my now heavily stubbled jaw, then do the same of the now longish layers of my hair that need a cut as bad as I need a shave. Inhaling, I walk to the bathroom, brush my teeth, and then stare into the mirror. I wait for the self-flagellation to start, for regrets over Myla to follow, but it doesn’t happen. I don’t regret touching her any more than I question why she’s important to me, beyond the obvious family connection. She just is. And I damn sure don’t regret the year of looking for her that created this connection I feel to her in the first place, because I found her, and I’m going to take her home.

Pushing off the sink, I cross the room, exit to the hallway, and seek out Myla, finding her standing in the kitchen, leaning on the counter, where she seems to stare at the wall. Seeming to sense my arrival, she turns to face me. “I heard what he said to you. I stayed by the door and I listened and I shouldn’t have, but I did. The man thinks I’m a loose cannon. And how dare he decide who can be in my bed, after all I’ve dealt with. How dare he-”

I’m in front of her before she finishes the sentence, my hands on her shoulders, my lips on her lips, my tongue doing a deep slide before she sighs and says, “You taste like spearmint,” telling me that I’ve successfully brought her mood down at least one notch.