Page 24

My lips tug upward at the way his whole body shakes with his laugh.

“I'll make a note to check your toes for any decay tomorrow, sound good?”

My chin dips in a nod. “So your wife, she's some kind of self-defense instructor?”

Pure pride radiates off T, his chest puffing out. “She's a marine, and a damn good one at that. All the men respect her, fear her a bit too.” Watching the softness creep into his normally hard eyes, hearing the reverent tone he's using when talking about his wife, makes me love him even more.

“Could she kick your ass?” I question.

His head cocks to the side like he's thinking the question over. “Maybe, but just because I'd be too busy staring at her fine ass to notice anything else.”

Men.

“So you're an ass guy.”

T's full lips press together to keep from smiling. “That's a personal question, don't you think?”

Heat flames beneath my cheeks. “I wasn't asking if you… if y’all… hell, you know what I meant.”

But he doesn’t respond. The typical all-business mask slides into place as we approach the door to our floor. Gremlin and Champ are there, guns out but not raised.

“Benson needs help securing the room. Go,” he orders. The two men immediately file out the door, leaving us and the other few agents waiting. Time slows as we stand outside the steel metal door.

“What the hell?” T mutters. His dark eyes flick down to me. “Seems you had a visitor.”

“What the hell?”

“That's what I said.” He nods to the door, and one of the other agents shoves it open. T marches us through and straight to Grem, who’s holding the door to our suite open. “What's going on?”

“We took the flowers out, left the card for her to read. Sealed it in a baggie to get fingerprints and contain any contaminants that could be on the paper.

T lowers me to the ground. I sway on my numb feet for a second before finding my equilibrium.

“Let me see it,” I demand, hand outstretched, palm up.

Motion from the other side of the room draws my attention. Trey stalks forward, forehead furrowed with a small plastic baggie dangling from his left fingers. “Don't have to guess who sent it. It's in Russian.”

“Or someone could've used Russian to throw us off,” T mutters, snatching the baggie from Trey before I can.

I frown up at him, but he ignores my death glare as he scans the note.

“Interesting. What does it say?”

My paper-thin patience snaps. Reaching out, I yank the baggie out of T's hand and flip it over to read the inscription. I scan over the words twice before peering up through my lashes at Trey.

He smirks, knowing full well I can't read Russian. “It says, ‘watch your back.’”

Trey’s features harden as he turns to T.

The two men step close, their words shifting to a low mumble. Exhaustion slams into me, nearly causing me to slump to the floor. My muscles ache, feet still freezing, and now I'm cut out of the discussion. Fine.

The soft carpet twists beneath my heel as I turn toward my bedroom.

“Mess?”

I don't stop or turn. “I need a bath,” I mutter over my shoulder as I step over the threshold and close the door behind me with a quiet click.

I inhale deep and slump against the door.