Page 64 of The Revenge Agenda

Hoping I can distract him, I change tack. “I’m scared he’ll see us together,” I whisper, sending a silent apology to Hunter for what I’m about to say. “That night … he threatened me. Told me if he ever saw us together that he’d …” What do bad guys usually say in this scenario? “Hurt me.” It’s a pathetic attempt, but Ian eats it right up.

“I will never, ever let anything happen to you.” He shifts his chair around until it’s beside me. “Look at me, baby.”

I do. Meet his eyes. For two seconds … three … before I physically can’t anymore.

“I will protect you.”

“But how?”

“However I have to.” His hand sneaks onto my thigh as he leans in. “I fucking love you so much, baby. I’ll do anything for you.” His hand slips between my legs. “Missed you. Missed this.”

My skin is crawling. I force myself not to pull away. My dick has never been so soft.

“You can’t protect me from him,” I say. “He said he’ll be watching.”

Ian chuckles. “I’d like to see him try.”

“What do you mean?”

“Let’s just say his time in Seattle is coming to an end.”

“Why?”

“There’s a, umm …” He holds back a laugh. “Housing shortage, babe. Trust me.” His smarmy voice is rubbing me all wrong. “I can guarantee he won’t be hanging around if he can’t find somewhere to live.”

“You can’t know that. That he won’t.”

He winks. “I’m very, very good at what I do.”

“Yes, but how can you affect anything?”

Ian doesn’t answer right away. “All I need is your trust. Can’t you do that for me?”

I push away from him and the table, hoping it looks natural and not like I can’t stand his hand on me anymore. He’s clearly not going to give me more than that.

“I can’t risk it. He scares me. I want to be with you too, but unless you can give me solid proof he won’t interfere, I just can’t.”

I hesitate, hoping he’ll come clean, but he keeps his mouth shut.

So I turn and storm from the restaurant, hoping like hell he takes the bait eventually. And until then, I need to get as far from him as possible.

Chapter 19

Hunter

Rush isn’t at work. He hasn’t called in, and even though he normally strolls in sometime around midmorning, it’s now after lunch, and I’m getting worried.

I check my emails for the millionth time, and there’s nothing there. No messages either.

If it wasn’t for him meeting up with Ian, I’d blow it off as him having a sick day and forgetting to call, but last night, I couldn’t stop thinking about them at dinner. It dominated my thoughts this morning as well. I’ve even left P.L. Ant on his desk with a note saying if you need a confidANT. It had felt cute at the time, a casual way to let him know I’m happy to talk about it—need to, actually—but it doesn’t help if he’s not here.

I pace my office again, wondering whether calling him is overbearing. I don’t want him to feel like he needs to report in to me over every little thing, but fuck me, I’m curious. And worried.

Somehow, I need to force myself to concentrate on the work in front of me, but my eyes won’t stop flicking over to where Rush normally sits.

Losing the battle to sit still, I get up and pace into the bullpen. The rest of my team are busy on calls, and I wait for Gates to end his.

“Heard from Carey today?”

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