Jonah Bennett (Bennett Mafia)

A tracker.

He thought I would have a tracker on my body?

What kind of world did he live in?

I broke away, holding my hands out toward him. “Please stop.”

This was so humiliating. I was burning up.

A flash of sympathy flared in his eyes. “If you have a tracker, I will find it. You have no option here.”

He didn’t care. My integrity was nothing to him.

Gah. I stepped back, some of my fight starting to fade, but dammit.

I undid my heels, tempted to throw them at him. But I didn’t, because I was half naked. I didn’t want any body parts rubbing against me right now.

The pants were next.

I unbuckled, wiggling them down, and stepped out of them. My thong was next. I tried to hide myself with my hair, but that was greasy from the nightclub. “Are you going to check my vagina?” I meant that as snark, but when he was quiet, I looked up. “I was joking.”

He wasn’t listening. He circled me, looking over my body.

He bent forward, looking at certain angles, and I realized he was looking for any bumps on my skin. He thought the tracker might be in me, but he was checking without touching me. I swallowed a sour taste in my mouth, refusing to be grateful for that small kindness.

After a moment, he stepped back and nodded toward the shower. “Go.”

I stepped inside, and mannnnnn, the water felt nice.

I turned towards the spray, giving him my backside.

When I turned back around, he was gone. My clothes were gone, too.

Fucking fucker fuck.

Grabbing the shampoo, I studied it. No clue what brand it was, but I was sure it cost $500 a bottle. I was tempted to empty the entire thing on the floor, but something told me he wouldn’t care.

Or notice.

Once I’d finished showering, I sat on the bed, a huge towel wrapped around me.

Jonah returned, carrying a pile of folded clothes, and placed them next to me. “Put those on.”

He went to a dresser and pulled out a pair of socks.

I frowned but reached for the clothes. He had found me underwear, leggings, a bra, and a yoga top. There was a sweatshirt on the bottom, and damn—I would’ve loved to buy that sweatshirt if I found it in a store. It was the softest material I’d ever felt, and it was off-white. Cream.

I dressed, pulling everything on.

That’s when I realized the socks weren’t socks. They were a yoga type of shoe that looked like socks. They were comfortable. Holy crap. Rich people always got the best stuff.

“When does the interrogation start?” I asked.

He watched me with hooded eyes from across the room. “Tell me why you’re here, why you were at Bresko’s.”

I frowned. “I thought you went through my phone.”

“I want to hear it from you, in your words.”

There was a look to him, like he was analyzing me. Maybe he was.

I sighed, so tired of all of this. I shrugged, sitting on the bed. “I’m from here. Grew up here all my life, and my sister is getting married next weekend. I’m a bridesmaid, or supposed to be one, and she called my boss and told her she’d gotten tickets to the Mustangs game tonight. She got me a couple extra days off so I could come up early. After the game, she wanted to go to Bresko’s. Said she got a VIP package from there.”

“Who do you work for?”

I frowned. “The lab. I don’t work for anyone else.”

“I’m not too familiar with Bresko’s, but with the exclusivity of it, I have a hard time believing a VIP package exists. So I’m asking again, who do you work for?”

I had nothing. No words. He knew who I worked for. “The morgue, in Texas.”

His eyes flashed. “Either your story checks out or we find out who you’re working for.”

“I don’t work for anyone else, just the lab. I’m not lying to you.”

Jonah’s eyes sparked, but it was dim. He was on low simmer.

And still gorgeous.

That wasn’t fair. The universe shouldn’t make men like him look like that.

“You’re doing this—”

His phone buzzed. Text after text began coming through.

He stepped back, swiping open his screen. “Crowler…” He cursed, leaving the room.

This was my time. I had to try. I had to take it.

I had no idea when he’d come back, so I went to the window.

I opened it, holding my breath, but when no alarm sounded, I cranked it farther open and hauled myself through it. Thank goodness they didn’t have screens here.

Hitting the ground, I landed on a sidewalk, and I crouched down. I imagined myself as an amazing kick-ass female spy. I didn’t see anyone around.

Holy shit. I couldn’t believe this luck, but I was going with it.

The yoga socks/shoes/whatever the hell they were, helped as I took off, running down a hill. There was minimal sound. A few leaves crunched, but that was it.