Page 95 of Risky Passion

“That’s a great start. What about that skull?” Jaxson asked as he dodged around a semi.

“With a bit of luck, the dental records might match a missing person’s record from forty years ago. No promises though.”

“I can’t wait to see what’s in those boxes," Jaxson said. "We need to go through them, ASAP."

My stomach twisted as I thought of the warehouse collapse. "But what about Aria's team, and those missing men? You said you and Onyx would search for them."

"Yes. We'll do both." Jaxson's gaze caught mine again, and hard determination burned in his eyes. "Onyx and I will search for those men, while you two go through these boxes. As long as you’re sure about your wounds being okay.”

“I’m sure,” I said.

“And I don’t think you should go home either,” he said. “If B is tying up loose ends, the three of us are on her list.”

I nodded, but my thoughts drifted to my cats again. Were they missing me yet? Probably not. They would only start missing me when the food and water ran out, which wouldn’t happen for a few more days, at least.

“Tory?” Jaxson’s voice was soft, careful. “What is it?”

The way he could read me so easily made my chest tighten. I hesitated, then gave him a small smile. “It’s nothing. I was just thinking about my cats.”

His smile spread slowly, reaching his eyes and softening the hard edges of his face.

"I think it’s time we contacted Aria," he said, refocusing. "Anyone have her number?"

Whitney and I shook our heads.

"I have Whisper's," I offered. "She can reach Aria."

“Okay.” As Jaxson nodded, his expression hardened. "We’ll get you two and the evidence in the trunk somewhere secure. Then Onyx and I will go to that warehouse. But first, we need a phone."

"Hey, we’re coming up to a petrol station." Whitney pointed at the sign through the windshield. "Might get lucky."

"I'll go in," I said. "Looking like this, someone's bound to take pity and let me use their phone."

"That could work," Jaxson said, "except we can't have you climbing out of a police car."

"Might give the wrong impression." I managed a weak laugh. "Last thing we need is someone thinking I'm an escaped criminal."

"You don't look that bad." Jaxson's eyes caught mine in the rearview mirror, and the affection in his gaze sent warmth spreading through me.

"Yeah, right. I look like I've been dragged through a rubbish dump backwards." I brushed my hand over my uniform, and my finger snagged on the loose flap from the bullet hole on my upper sleeve. "Um, I have a bullet hole in my uniform. So, I need a different shirt. One that screams 'help me,' not 'call the cops.'" I let out a weak chuckle.

"Whitney, give her your shirt."

Whitney twisted around to face me. "My shirt isn’t exactly fresh."

"That’s okay. Your black soot is better than my bullet hole and dried blood."

"Fair point." He grimaced. "But I should warn you, it's pretty ripe."

"I'll survive."

I started with the buttons, and my injured arm protested every movement. The sleeve was the worst, drawing a hiss of pain as I worked it free.

"Easy," Jaxson murmured as his stunning caramel eyes found mine again. "Take it slow."

My heart did that stupid little skip it seemed to do whenever he looked at me like that.

Whitney passed his shirt back. "Don't say I didn't warn you about the smell."

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