Sins, Lies & Spies (Black Brothers #2)(10)

I pinned her with my stare. “Great. Then you won’t mind me taking this from you.” My hand shot inside her jacket and I pulled out a couple of files.

I flipped through the labels.



Benton Family.



Representative Lang.



Amy Black.



She stole the file on my mom.

My entire childhood, I had a recurring daydream of my father banging on the front door of our shitty trailer in that even shittier town in Arizona and demanding to take me away from there. By the time I reached thirteen, I gave up hope, and I focused on getting the hell out of there and away from my mom.

Last year, I spent some time investigating my mother’s relationships around the time I was born. My mom told me more times than I could count that she didn’t remember anything about my father. She claimed she had a drunken one-night stand and ended up pregnant, but I didn’t believe her, and my research backed up my instincts. My mom may have spent a good chunk of my formative years working as a high-paid escort of sorts, but she had a very short list of steady clients. I had narrowed the list to two men who could be my father.

Between Archer’s quest for revenge against Senator Wharton and the explosion of business at my security and intelligence firm, I didn’t have the time to dig any deeper and part of me didn’t want to know anyway. Somehow over the past year, it no longer mattered who fathered me, but it didn’t mean I liked Trinity prying into my personal business.

As I stared at the label on the inch-thick file folder, I felt the familiar sensation of a hundred pound weight on my back, my mind drunk on unwanted memories. I had forgotten, or maybe just hadn’t wanted to recall, the feeling of dejection and hopelessness of growing up poor and without anyone who cared about me except my brother Archer.

“You’re spying on me. Is this late night visit another errand for your piece of shit boyfriend? Tell me. Why does he make you do all his dirty work?” Hate coated my words, but it wasn’t directed at her. Not really.

Her eyes narrowed and she yanked her hand away from me. I didn’t resist. I needed her to get out of my home before I snapped. I couldn’t stand the thought of people prying into my personal business. I didn’t share my history with anyone. Sure, I disclosed a rose-colored version of my history to the government to get security clearance, but nobody except Archer and his fiancée knew the real truth. The real truth was so much uglier than I wanted to reveal.

The corners of her lips turned down. “My boyfriend?”

“Yes. I’m talking about Miles.” I folded my arms across my chest. “By the way, you have poor taste in men.”

“Miles isn’t my boyfriend. He’s a business associate.” The melancholy in her voice hit me like a punch to the gut.

“Oh really? That’s not what I heard.”

She rocked back on her heels and laughed, but it wasn’t genuine. “Yeah, well, your sources are wrong.”

Our eyes met, and I took the opportunity to study her face. I could get lost in those eyes. They were dark and endless. My attention dipped to her mouth. Even pursed in anger, it looked good enough to nibble on.

Beneath her sharp tongue and thick armor, I sensed uncertainty and loneliness. For a fleeting second, I wanted to delve into the layers that made Trinity Jones tick. I shook my head. What the hell was I doing waxing poetic about some woman who broke into my home and searched my personal and work files?

“Why did you take these files?” I yelled, angrier with myself now than with her.

She flinched, but immediately shrugged nonchalantly, trying to cover her reaction. “They looked interesting.”

“You’re lying.”

“So what? What are you going to do about it?”

The muscle in my jaw twitched from clenching my teeth. “Stay away from me, Jones. The trick you pulled at Representative Lang’s home was business and I’ll let it go for now. But if I find out you or Miles are meddling in my private matters, I won’t hesitate to destroy both of you.”

Warning delivered, I walked to my front door, not bothering to turn around to see if she was following me. I flung open the door. She took a few steps, her shoes clicking against the floor, before pausing at the threshold.

She stared at me, assessing me, trying to read my thoughts. “This isn’t over. Not by a long shot.”

“Yes, and that’s what separates the good agents from the bad agents.”

“And what’s that exactly?”

“The intelligent ones recognize when they’ve been beaten and they cut their losses and move on. The dumb ones just keep spinning their wheels, wasting more time and resources all to come to the same conclusion.”

She leaned forward, and she was so close to me. The tip of her pink tongue darted out of her mouth. Awareness swirled through the air, and invisible arrows prickled my suddenly feverish skin. Dammit, I had the urge to kiss her again. I doubted she’d appreciate the gesture, especially after I just finished insulting her intellect.

Instead, I twisted a silky strand of her hair around my finger, my gaze glued to the contrast between my skin and her inky mane.

Dark and light.

Night and Day.

Yin and yang.

Mixed messages swirled in the air, making it heavy. She froze, her eyes wide with shock and something elusive.