“I think we need to confront Hal.”
Pilar looked up from her coffee, watching him for a long moment before nodding and setting the cup down.
“While I’m not arguing with that, I don’t believe you, and I have the capabilities in order to take him down by ourselves.”
He sighed and leaned back against the kitchen counter, running a hand through his hair. “What do you suggest?”
She shrugged. “Call Nick. Ask him for manpower. We need to come at this strategically.”
“Do you think he’d supply us with agents?”
“Definitely. He’d lend us the entire DOD if it came down to it.”
Damn, that was a solid point. The Department of Defense had the kind of resources that neither he nor Pilar had on their own. Agents to spare as well as the tech in order for them to do serious surveillance.
Leaning away from the counter, Maverick strode across his penthouse and into his room. He needed to act on this now. He was tired of waiting around for the right moment to strike. There was never going tobea right moment.
Opening his closet, Maverick pulled out a pair of jeans and a shirt and tossed them onto his bed. He swung around and grabbed one of his jackets hanging on the side of the door, moving back over to the bed before tossing that down too.
He grabbed his jeans first and opened them, sticking a leg inside.
He barely got his calf into it before his leg got stuck.
… What the hell?
He tried shoving his leg into his jeans again, getting them up only a few more centimeters before they got stuck again.
“They’re not going to fit you.” He turned to Pilar, who was standing in the doorway. She shook her head at him, amusement coloring her eyes. “I told you, your body changed. Remember?”
Sliding his leg back out, he tossed the jeans onto his bed again. “Yeah, but I didn’t think it would bethatmuch.”
“You underestimate how much bigger shifters are than everyone else.”
He looked down at the clothes on his bed … now ill-fitted and useless. “Yeah, clearly…”
She snorted at him and headed into the room. He watched as she walked over to his dresser, a shopping bag sitting on top of it that he didn’t recognize. She pulled it off and swung it over to him, letting it land on top of his discarded clothes.
“I knew you wouldn’t have anything, so I ordered those while you were still recovering. Luckily, they came in this morning.”
He tilted his head in curiosity, peeling the bag open and seeing a few pieces of clothing folded nicely inside. He grabbed the top one, letting it unravel. It was a shirt that was three times the size he usually bought.
He held it up to his chest. “Damn.”
“Told you.”
He smiled and pulled it on, feeling the lightweight material rest comfortably over his newly formed chest. He brushed a hand over it, looking at her.
“Thank you. You didn’t need to do that.”
She shrugged, coming over to sit on the edge of his bed. “What else was there to do?”
There was an edge to her voice. Rough and filled with emotion. He couldn’t help but see the lingering flecks of sadness brewing in her eyes while she looked him over carefully.
He felt terrible, making her worry about him like that. Clearly, whatever he’d been through … either from the poison or the serum … it had affected her deeply. More than he realized.
Pushing away the bag and his other clothes, he sank his knee onto the mattress next to her, cupping her face between her hands and tilting her head back so he could look at her properly. He ran his thumbs over her cheeks and under her eyes, feeling the bags that had puffed up there.
“Thank you. Really. I’m sorry that I worried you.”