Page 43 of Undertow

I stare at him in confusion. That’s what this is about?

“They already knew about that, sir. I had to give them something to gain their trust.”

Scarlett’s gaze scalds me from across the room, and I force down a rush of anxiety. I tried ignoring it at first, but it’s impossible when so much venom is being spewed in my direction. She’s pissed about the rejection. I get that, but…

Oh fuck.

My blood runs cold.

“Sources tell me you were seen being intimate with Julia Hartford on a beach,” he says, not moving. It’s eerie how he can project so much hostility from the things hedoesn’tdo.

“Yes.” I try to keep the alarm from my voice.

“An hour into your mission and you managed to get your tongue down her throat?”

By the smug expression on Scarlett’s face, I know who’s behind this sudden wave of doubt.

“That was my job, wasn’t it? I’m good at what I do.”

“So I’ve been told,” he says derisively, casting a look at his daughter. “Maybe too good at times.”

I bristle from the sting.

Theyturnedme into this. What do they expect? What did she tell them?

“Like I reported, Julia was trying to use me too. I didn’t actually get under her skin that fast.”

It’s an odd feeling using a failure as a defense.

“Or maybe you actuallyareworking for them. Maybe you have arealrelationship with Julia Hartford.”

My eyes widen in shock. A mistake for sure, but I can’t help it. “How?I was in Philadelphia for the last eight months workingthat city-revitalization job.You’rethe one who dragged me down here and threw me at her!”

I hear the fear in my voice so I know he does. His gaze hardens at my outburst. There’s no way he liked my tone or accusations—i.e. thetruth.

Satan can’t tolerate Truth.

“Strip him,” he says coldly.

Even Merrick stiffens to my right. “Sir, I’m sure?—”

“You want to be next?” McArthur warns.

Merrick’s gaze brushes mine for just a second before I’m being slammed against the wall from behind. I wince as my cheek grinds against the textured surface, while my arm is twisted behind my back. Patrick seems to be taking great pleasure in burying his other forearm in my neck.

“I can do it myself!” I snap, instinctively struggling against his grip.

A sharp knee to my side knocks the air from my lungs. A second blow has my painful cough drowning out the sound of tearing fabric. Buttonspingoff the wall and floor. My skin feels cold from more than exposure to excessive air conditioning as they tear my shirt from my back.

“I’m not wired,” I manage through labored breaths.

I’m insulted they think I’d be so stupid.

Fingers dig into my arm and drag me around to shove my back against the wall for inspection. McArthur scans my bare chest, and I clench my teeth against the fury aimed at the woman on the couch. Her hurt feelings could get me killed.

Rage builds in my chest when McArthur waves at my uniform pants.

“Are you fucking kidding me? All these years working for you and you think I’d be stupid enough to come in here with something on me?”