Could I be satisfied with a purely sexual relationship? Even if I could, would Bryce be open to it? He’d probably spew a bunch of “I can’t just fuck my best friend’s sister” crap at me.
I touched my lips lightly. I could still feel his passionate kiss, still feel his lips on my body, still feel his erection inside me, easing the empty ache.
Again, my feet twitched. So easily I could let them walk the block and a half to Bryce’s home. So easily I could knock on that door, look into those sparkling blue eyes, see how much he still wanted me.
And he’d want me. Sex and passion like we’d shared doesn’t always happen, and it sure hadn’t been one-sided.
I sighed.
And then I let my feet move forward.
Chapter Twenty
Bryce
Not a number I recognized. I nodded to my mother and walked away from her to take the call.
“Hello?”
“Is this Bryce Simpson?”
“Speaking. Who is this?”
“Ted Morse, Mr. Simpson.”
Morse. Right. The big-time banker father of Colin Morse, my father’s final victim.
I cleared my throat. “What can I do for you?”
“You can meet with me. I have information you’re going to want.”
He did? “Why don’t you tell me over the phone? I’m listening.”
“This is sensitive information.”
“So? I assure you my phone is not tapped.”
“How can you be so sure? The FBI is probably watching everyone associated with Mathias, Wade, Madigan, and your father.”
I moved my phone away from my ear and stared at it. Was I bugged? Could a cell phone be bugged? I had no idea. Morse was probably pulling my leg, but could I take that chance? I put the phone back to my ear. “I doubt that.”
“Trust me. The Feds are always listening. I won’t speak of this over the phone.”
“Well, if they are listening, they now know you have information for me.”
No response.
Did this guy think I was stupid?
“This conversation is over,” I said, ending the call.
Yeah, hanging up was immature, but I had enough on my mind. First, the Feds had no reason to be watching me. I was not my father, and my father was dead and cremated. Second, the case was closed. All the masterminds behind it were dead, and the human-trafficking ring had been busted. The kids and women had been rescued and returned home.
The end.
The fucking end.
All that remained was the fallout for people like me.