It made me sick to my stomach to see her cozying up to Travis so easily. Half of me wants to tie the man to the back of my car and take him for a spin. The other half knows Jen can handle herself.
Keep your head in the game, McCray.
I notice Travis’ resolve softening with every touch and every smile.
“She doesn’t know how to handle a real man like you, Travis,” Jen continues, pausing to give him a coy smile. “Believe me, you’re much better off without her.”
“She never did know how to appreciate me,” Travis agrees with a smirk. “Then again, Simone wasn’t the brightest. If you know what I mean.”
Jen inches closer “Of course I do.”
Travis’ eyes move over every inch of her until they move back up to her face. “I don’t trust you at all, but an enemy of the FBI is a friend of ours. Of course, if you’re lying, we’ll make sure the only time you’ll ever see that pretty face of yours again is in your yearbook.”
“I’m not lying,” Jen says, firmly but softly enough to even convince me she was actually into that bastard.
“And they did you one over, huh?”
“They did. And I want to make them pay, don’t you?”
Travis nods. “Of course, but I’ve got my eyes on you. I’ll be keeping averyclose eye on you.”
“Something tells me you’ll be staying on top of things, like you always do.” Jen flashes another smile that has me seeing red. I place both hands on the desk, silently seething.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Why am I getting so worked up anyway?
It’s not like I didn’t know the plan.
Jen is working Travis like a pro, and she has him eating out of the palm of her hand. Meanwhile, the gleam in his eyes makes me want to reach into the screen and punch the smirk right off his face. Instead, I jump out of my chair and try to ignore the pounding of my heart.
Focus on the mission. A lot of people are counting on this to work, remember?
And not only am I the type of person to swing for the fences, but I also believe that, with Jen’s help, we can strike a deadly blow to the mob.
Both of us need this.
Which is why I need to get Jen out of my head once and for all.
With a growl, I sit back down in front of the screen, in time to see Travis giving a series of knocks on the door behind him, and it creaks open. He steps inside, tugging Jen along with him. Inside, a bald-headed man sits behind a desk, surrounded by a thick plume of smoke. Jen twists, and I can see the shelves pressed on either side of the wall, and the window behind the desk.
I reach for a notebook and a pen and hold my breath.
Travis deposits Jen into a chair and takes a seat next to her. “I’m sure you remember Jen Marshall, O’Malley.”
O’Malley chuckles and his eyes tighten around the edges. “You’re a hard woman to forget, Ms. Marshall.”
“It’s good to see you again, Mr. O’Malley.”
O’Malley leans forward in his chair and pauses to stub out his cigar. Through the thin mist, I see a weathered face, a crooked nose and a scar over his right eye.
Just like Jen described it.
When he gives Jen a feral grin, it sends ice sluicing through my veins.
In the glass window, I catch a glimpse of Jen, straight backed and blank faced. “I’ve already provided some useful info as a show of good faith. It’s your turn now.”