Page 117 of Salvaged Hearts

“I haven’t,” he agreed.

“Doesn’t mean he’s innocent,” I scoffed, biting back a growl.

“No.” Max shook his head. “What it means is if he’s involved knowingly, he’s covered his trail well.”

“I don’t think he’s that bright,” I huffed. Temper threatening my composure, I straightened, fiddling with a cuff link before I stood, buttoned my jacket, and tidied the lapel. Slowly, I paced around the desks to brace my hands on theirs.

“As much of a monster as I think Reggie is, I agree,” Alice said, reaching forward to settle her hand over mine reassuringly. “But he’s somehow involved. Could it have been an ISMI catcher?”

To me, Max explained, “That’s like a cell phone interceptor. Essentially, they trick phones into thinking they’re towers, so they connect with them, and from there?—”

Cutting him off, I deadpanned, “Yes, I know what they are, thank you.” Like I hadn’t spent my life working toward being a Tier One operatorbeforestepping into the role of CEO in one of the globe’s largest corporate empires.Christ.

“Not just a pretty face. Very good, Mr. Hart.” Max spun his laptop back toward him and narrowed his eyes pensively. “Perhaps? That would explain the stupid keyword and where these hooks are planted.”

“Reggiewoulduse our last name backward as a password,” I grumbled, smirking to myself. Maybe I’d go to hell for finding humor in any of this, but it would be worth the satisfaction of knowing the old man was an idiot. Keeping myself focused, I asked, “Got any new names for me?”

“Working to decrypt more data…or rather, my software is in the background at the moment.”

“Thanks, Max.”

“I need to go for a run,” Alice ground out by the time seven o’clock came around that evening. She pressed her palms to her forehead, blinking away what I assumed was the same layer of screen fog I had in my vision, popping her jaw as though she’d clenched it all afternoon.

Tensions had only gotten higher the deeper into the web we spiraled.

“My ass feels bruised,” I groused, leaning into my chair to stretch my sore back. As though our agendas weren’t already at their maximum capacity, every would-be break was filled with updates from Max and Jackson or a file that Alice wanted me to review with her.

We’d barely consumed any calories, and those we had gotten down were entirely to my assistant’s credit. Paul surreptitiously slid into the room during a conference call and set thirty-two-ounce protein shakes in front of all three of us before slipping back out the door and closing it behind him.

As it turned out, Alice got exceedingly cranky subsisting on coffee and smoothies alone.

“Myeyesfeel bruised,” Max muttered from where he was lying on my office floor with his arms draped over his face, dark hair fanning out like we’d electrocuted him. He’d compulsively run his fingers through it as our findings worsened, and I was fairly certain he’d managed to rub all the product out with his irritation.

“El swears by kickboxing,” Alice noted, voice distorted by the extension of her throat as she leaned her head onto the back of her chair with her eyes closed. “But I just want to run the beach until I hit the cliffs.”

My heart sank.

The glaring now-yellow and deep purple splotches on her arm had me grinding my teeth all day—a reminder of why we were bruising our asses until we could ensure a resolution.

What we needed was an inter-department sting spanning at least two states, but very likely three or four. Luckily for me, coordinatingthatfell on Jackson’s plate. Even then…would I evernotpanic at the idea of Alice out alone after a call that close? In current circumstances, that privilege would entail bringing a handful of security with her,which she would hate.

My fault.This need for security. This crushing sense of confinement she’d never signed up for. I’d plucked a girl from her free-range life in the Mistyvale mountains of a remote Alaskan island and put her in a cage. How long would it be before she hated me for it?

Gears churning, I thumbed through my mental files for a solution—something secure that would still let her blow off steam. As I studied the muscle definition in her bruised arms, I sat up straighter. Why did every Rhodes I’d met thus far look like they could knock a motherfucker out? I guess Paxton wasn’t the only one born to be an athlete.

A plan began to solidify in my mind, a smile gradually creeping across my face as it did.

Okay. Not every aspect of being a Hart was a burden. As a matter of fact, it bought us some pretty cool privileges from time to time.

“I have a better idea.”

Alice

My facehurt.As in,physicallyhurt from laughing so much.

Reasoning that the team was rarely in the training facility after about six, Greyson took full advantage of our status as owner, and the family—minus Max, who had no interest insweating while the case was unsolved—convened on the indoor field after another smoothie for dinner.

Paxton brought Dallas, both still in their gear from training and what started as make-shift drills rapidly disintegrated into a chaotic game of tag when Ollie and the kids showed up.

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