I was an only child, but I really didn’t think that if I had any siblings, I’d have their faces saved as my phone’s background. They were apparently close, and I had to wonder where he was while his sister was traipsing around with gun smugglers.
“What’s her passcode?” I asked.
“5646.”
I typed the code in and the screen opened right up. Sitting on her home screen was her messages app with a glaring number two in all red. Two unread messages.
Curiosity spiked up the back of my head, and my thumb hovered over the app. I couldn’t read the messages or else she’d know I was snooping on her phone, but I could and did swipe my thumb to pull her notifications down.
A name and a preview of a message revealed itself.
Demitri
Don’t be mad at me, Red. You know—
And there the message cut off. A ball of relief released inside of my chest, easing the gnawing anxiety just a bit.
At least she wasn’t texting her.
In thirty seconds, The Bug was downloaded on her phone, and SAC Avery and I hung up with him requesting regular updates on today's operation.
I sighed and looked down at Scarlett, figuring how in the hell I was going to get her to believe that after going through hoop after hoop to keep her by my side, I was suddenly fine with her going out on her own.
This day already blew chunks, and it wasn’t even 9am.
Grabbing a pillow from my bed, my eyes were still attached to a peacefully sleeping Scarlett—a woman who just went from a thorn in my side to a dagger in my back.
I took the pillow and lifted it over my head, letting it come right down on her peeking head.
Scarlett jumped with a startled gasp, hitting the pillow off of her with her free hand. Wide emerald eyes fluttered open, scanning around the hotel room and up to her handcuffed arm lying above her head. She gave it a useless tug, testing it like it’d magically loosened overnight.
She flopped her head back down against her pillow when it didn’t budge.
“What time is it?” she groaned.
“Time to get up.”
She propped herself up on her elbow, gifting me her sleepy-eyed scowl. “Are you always a smartass in the mornings?”
I chose to ignore her comment, strolling over to the tiny hotel countertop where a pathetic set up of coffee and a pot sat. I didn’t get much sleep after Scarlett went to bed, and I had a hell of a day ahead of me, so shitty coffee in a styrofoam cup would have to make do.
I’d grab a whiskey later.
“I was thinking about yesterday, and I think I was a little harsh on you,” I started.
“Which part? When you handcuffed me to the bed or when you went to choke me out?”
I grit my teeth together. “Both.”
She audibly sighed, working on my already shot-to-hell nerves. “That was the most disappointing night I ever spent handcuffed to a bed. Maybe you really are a lousy fuck.”
I breathed through her crass comment, turning to find her sitting up in bed watching me, the sheet clutched over her chest.
“Watch it,” I warned. Scarlett rolled her eyes and sunk back down, eyes fixated on the chain around her wrist.
Her words stung my mind with images I didn’t want of her, inappropriate, perverted images that I definitely needed to get the fuck out of my head. Pictures passed behind my eyes of her tiny body writhing against silken sheets the very color of her hair, bound and helpless.
Her little mouth gasping, her hips rolling, her shapely chest heaving—