Page 65 of Undertow

And her enthusiasm.

“I should probably visit Undertow to confirm Shaw’scooperation, don’t you think?” she says, tracing the edge of her wine glass. Her hazel eyes lock on me.

“Yes, that’s a good idea,” Merrick confirms.

It is, but I try to keep any agreement from my face. I already see an elaborate scheme forming in her head.

My blood chills at memories of her last one.

“Don’t you trust me, Shaw?”

I didn’t. I shouldn’t have. It didn’t matter anyway.

“Just remember this character isn’t me,” I say coldly. “This guy isn’t a seasoned pro. He’s not going to be willing to go too far with his subterfuge.”

I harden my stare on Scarlett with a warning.

You can’t use him like you use me.

Her pout irritates me more, and I clench my fist at my side.

“We’ll let you know when we have a plan,” Merrick says to Scarlett before shifting his focus to me.

“Great. Now, if we’re done with the trivial bullshit, can we review the important stuff?” I say.

Her glare turns cold. Merrick’s lips twitch with amusement.

“Thanks, Scarlett,” he says, formally dismissing her.

She has no choice but to push up from the couch and stalk off.

“You’re playing with fire,” he warns once we’re alone. “I know you two have a bad history, but she’s still a McArthur.”

“She’s immature and petty.”

“Exactly. And combined with scorned love, that makes her incredibly dangerous.”

“Lust,” I correct.

“Lust?”

“Scornedlust,not love.”

Scarlett McArthur doesn’t love anything but herself. None of them do.

“The word makes no difference and you know it,” Merrick says.

“Yeah? So what do you suggest? I fucking marry her like they want?”

His brows lift at my harsh response. “Yes, and with a big fat smile on your face.”

I look away, my jaw tightening. Frustration simmers in my gut at the scolding. This whole damn situation. I’m so sick of this stupid middle school drama consuming our attention when apocalyptic violence looms on the horizon. Every second I spend in Undertow is another second closer to a bullet in my head… or worse.

“I’ll be triggering the staged photos tonight, so be prepared for a quick countermove,” I say.

A flash of humor flickers over his face at my abrupt subject change. “Good. I’ll be ready. Send me an update as soon as you can.”

“There’s more.” I lean toward him, resting my elbows on my knees. “Remember how I said everything is cash-only? I worked the general store last night and helped Adrian sort the day’s sales. He had me count it twice, but that’s not the number he entered.”

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