Page 13 of Retaliation

His response was immediate.

Come outside

She shook her head, not caring who saw her smile. She was only faintly aware that her boss went on to pester someone else for an idea, as he himself had the creativity of a wooden spoon.

Meeting is still on

When she didn’t receive a response, she thought he got the message and locked her phone. She returned to her doodling while fighting the urge to fall asleep.

Another ten minutes had passed, and the content writers were fighting about a possible storyline for a lame simulation game they had decided on. Her mind drifted, eyes glazing over as she let their bickering fade into a dull hum. She tapped her pen against the table, her thoughts miles away.

A knock on the door finally broke the argument and drew her from her daydreaming. She straightened, curiosity piqued. A man with long blond hair tied in a bun poked his head into the conference room.

“Excuse me, sir,” he smiled at Topaz. “I’ve got a delivery for a Miss Sloan?”

Topaz glared at her as if the interruption was her doing. She met his gaze with a cold stare, unflinching.

“Have the secretary sign for it,” Topaz grunted, clearly annoyed.

“Unfortunately, it is a sensitive situation, sir,” the delivery man replied, his tone respectful but firm. “I need to hand it to her personally.”

She didn’t wait for a second invitation. Relief flooded her, a welcome escape from the drudgery of the meeting. She grabbed her belongings with a quick, fluid motion and rushed to the door.

As she stepped into the hallway, she couldn’t help but wonder what the delivery was. But alarms immediately went off when she got a better look at the messenger. They usually didn’t have delivery men in gray t-shirts and faded black jeans wearing combat boots. Especially not ones that were built like a bulldozer.

She took a step back and assessed the situation. Her fight-or-flight instincts told her this was an ambush and she had to be ready for a fight. So she did just that. As casually as possible, she placed one foot in front of the other, distributing her weight evenly.

“Who the fuck are you?” she demanded.

“He’s with me,” Scorpion answered from behind her, and she let out a calming breath.

She turned to see another man flanking him, and the blond one moved around her to fall behind Scorpion to his right.

“And who are they?” she asked with raised brows, enjoying the muscle popping in the blond one’s jaw as she spoke about them and not to them.

“Allow me to introduce you to Gunnar,” Scorpion put his hands in his pockets and tilted his head to his right. Gunnar tipped his chin about half an inch. It was the only acknowledgment she received from the previous smiling face that got her out of the meeting.

“And Dennis,” he turned his head to the left.

The latter stretched out a hand with a broad smile, which she shook. His large, chestnut hand swallowed hers in comparison. But they were soft. She knew Gunnar was a fighter by the sheer size of his arms—not to mention the large scar on his left eye. Dennis’s soft hands made it clear that he didn’t see the inside of a ring.

“Guys, this is Poison.” The way Scorpion said her name, as if it were a caress, sent a shiver crawling down her spine, and she forgot how to breathe.

“Nice to meet you,” Dennis beamed, his smile warm and genuine.

“Likewise,” she replied, her voice steady despite the fluttering in her stomach.

“So,” Scorpion’s smile was hypnotic, his eyes locked onto hers. “You ready to leave?”

Excitement bubbled in her chest, completely overshadowing the tension that had been there moments before. “Where to?” she asked, trying to keep her tone casual.

“I take it you rode your bike to work?” His gaze flickered with a knowing glint.

“I did,” she confirmed, her heart racing. Fuck, this man had no idea how much he affected her.

“Great!” he beamed, his enthusiasm infectious. “Let’s get out of here!”

As they turned to leave, she felt exhilaration and curiosity course through her veins. Unable to suppress the smile spreading across her lips, she followed Scorpion.

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