Tied to His Betrayal (Dirty Little Secrets 2) - Page 7

Ryder smirks, confirming my assumptions. “Probably not.” He glances at Alex, breezily changing the subject. “What else are you seeing?”

Alex begins typing again, her eyes squinting at her screen. “Ah, wait…oh, okay, so it seems like a past therapist reported that he’s a heavy drinker.”

“Which is likely what leads to the violence,” Ryder offers.

I’m hearing the conversation going on around me, but I’m more focused on the fact that Alex is clearly not only an investigator, but Ryder’s best hacker.

She finally sighs and leans back in her chair. “I’ll need a little more time to look into all this. But from what I can tell, you’re right, Mason lives in San Diego. His passport shows no activity. But to know if he’s left there and come here, I’ll need to look into his bank account and credit cards. Once I have that information, we can easily track him.”

“How long will that take?” I ask.

Alex smiles. “I’ll have solid information for you in an hour.”

She turns to Ryder then, and he gives her a quick nod. “Go ahead. Get started on this.”

“On it.” She packs up her computer and leaves the meeting room.

“Is what you do even legal?” I ask Ryder after the door shuts behind Alex.

“Well…” He smirks. “We’re kinda sitting in that gray area.”

“But leaning more toward the getting arrested area?” I offer.

“Nah.” He pushes off the glass wall, approaching me. “We do too much good to ever be a threat to anyone. Besides, we give the police chief leads so they can make the bust on certain cases, and we have a few government contracts. As long as they come out of this looking good, then we live on a what-you-don’t-see-can’t-hurt-you line of thinking.”

I snort, donning my jacket. “So, you’re a vigilante?”

“That’s one way of looking at it.”

“And what’s the other way of looking at it?”

Ryder grins, slapping a hand onto my shoulder. “Pretending this place doesn’t exist at all.”

Taylor

The sound of crickets singing in the flower beds leads me along the path from the condo and into the small park across the street. I find Darius sitting on the bench near the big oak tree, beneath the light post. His eyes are following me in the way they always used to, looking right through me, like he knows all my secrets and can strip me bare with a single look.

I can’t stop the way my stomach dips when I’m around him. Darius just has that power over me. At twenty-nine, he was hot. But now, at thirty-five, he’s striking. Gorgeous beyond what I could’ve imagined. So confident, so controlled, so calm; it’s all a little overwhelming, if I’m honest. His stylish brown hair, his sexy tailored suit, his chiseled face; he’s quite a piece of eye candy.

“Hi,” I say when I reach him.

His long legs are stretched out before him, his warm, chocolate-brown eyes squinting. “Why am I not seeing your bruises?”

“It’s called really good makeup.” Expensive makeup that I’ll need for job interviews. I can’t imagine anyone hiring someone who looks like a truck hit them in the face. So, it’s money well spent.

“It does the job.” He pats the empty spot on the bench next to him, his warm smile greeting me. “This spot is for you.”

I can’t tell by his expression why he asked me to meet him here tonight, but that’s not much of a surprise. He’s an expert at locking up his emotions tight. And I’m an expert at knowing that’s exactly what he’s doing.

When I take a seat next to him, the scent of the street meat from the vendor on the corner carries across the warm breeze. Even if he’s quiet, I can still feel his pulsating energy vibrating off him, though that always seemed to be his superpower.

Some guys could make you laugh. Some guys you could have serious fun with. Darius possesses so much strength it oozes out of him. The feeling is warm and welcoming and yet also carefully guarded. It’s not offered to everyone, but I know it’s available if I need to lean on him.

I force myself not to get too lost in how good it feels being next to him. “So,” I say, breaking the silence, turning in my seat to face him. “What’s up?”

He turns his head slightly, showing off the smooth line of his cheekbone. “I want to know the truth.”

“You already know the truth,” I tell him.

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