Reign of Wrath (Dirty Broken Savages #3)(106)

Usually, I head right to the back when I get here, ready to dive into a night’s worth of business and paperwork and whatever else is waiting for me.

I go to usher River back to the office, but she puts a hand on my arm, stopping me.

“Wait,” she says, grinning as she half shouts over the music. “Dance with me.”

“What?”

She pulls me to the dance floor, where there’s already a crush of people bumping and grinding and having a good time.

“Dance with me,” she says again, pressing her body against mine so that her tits rub against my chest.

I honestly can’t remember the last time I just... danced in this club. I’ve been too busy running the damn place, taking everything seriously and watching out for my family. It hasn’t left a lot of time for anything else.

I can feel the bartender, who knows me pretty well by this point, staring in surprise as I give in and pull River even closer to me, moving to the music.

It’s definitely not something the old me would have done, but I’m not that person anymore.

Because of the woman in my arms.

River laughs, a free, delighted sound, and starts moving her body to the beat. The song changes to a slower one, and something flashes in her eyes as her movements change with it. She works her hips, swaying with the beat, looking so damn sexy I can’t help but pull her against me so I can move with her.

It’s so easy to get lost in this. In the music and the way her body gyrates against mine.

She moves so freely, like she doesn’t have a care in the world right now other than grinding against me. It’s so far from how she looked before, either when she was tightly wound and angry at everything and everyone or when she was blank and numb right after her sister’s death.

Now there’s a teasing smile on her face, and she lifts our joined hands and spins under them, ending up impossibly closer when she comes out of her turn.

I dip my head and kiss along her neck, and she tilts her head to one side, giving me more space. I can barely hear it over the beat of the music, but she hums with pleasure, her eyes fluttering half closed as we keep dancing.

I run my hands over her body, curving down over her hips and then up over her ass. She laughs breathlessly at that, but I can tell she likes it. I know she wants more.

There’s a part of my brain that thinks about the pile of paperwork on the desk that still needs to get done, but I shove it away. Business can wait for a little longer.

As we move together, we’re close enough that I can feel it when River’s phone vibrates in her pocket. She makes a face and reluctantly pulls away to look at it.

I can tell she wasn’t expecting whoever it is to be calling, because her lips curve down in a frown.

A spark of worry lights in my chest, and I jerk my chin toward her phone. “What is it?”

With her bottom lip trapped between her teeth, she turns the phone around to show me the screen.

Agent Carter is calling.





44





River





Gage quickly leads me to the back where their office is so I can take the call without screaming over the music.

My stomach churns with anxiety as we step into the office. I’m worried this has something to do with Natalie’s death. Maybe we didn’t clear up the scene well enough and it got linked to us somehow. Or maybe the FBI somehow found a way to link Julian’s death to us.

All sorts of things flash through my mind, but I take a deep breath and answer the call.

“Agent Carter,” I say, trying to sound surprised and nonchalant. “What’s going on?”

I brace myself for probing questions about where I was on the day of Natalie’s death, or for him to start asking me for details about the Kings or something.

“I need to talk to you,” Carter says, getting right to the point.

He seems agitated and different from normal. Usually he’s very put together, and he asks his questions in that way that’s cool and businesslike.

But now he just sounds… weird.

“We are talking,” I tell him. “You’re talking to me right now.”

“No,” he says, letting out a breath. “In person. Soon.”

“I don’t have any more information for you. I don’t know anything else about Julian.”

“It’s not about that,” Carter tells me, and it sounds like he’s barely keeping it together. “There are things you need to know. Things I should have told you before. Or maybe not. Fuck. I don’t know.”

It almost sounds like he’s talking to himself at the end, like some kind of internal debate is coming out.

It just adds to the strange, distracted way he’s talking, and worry cuts through my stomach like acid.

“You’re not making any sense.” I shake my head, tightening my grip on the phone as I glance over at Gage. “What do I need to know?”

“I want to meet with you in person,” Agent Carter insists. “We can talk then. I can’t say this over the phone.”

I hold Gage’s gaze, knowing he’s close enough that he can hear Carter’s voice through the phone’s small speaker. He looks as concerned as I feel, but we both know that we pretty much have to go.

Saying no or hanging up isn’t really an option, because whatever Carter wants to talk about, it either already affects us or it will, whether we try to avoid it or not.