Page 44 of Lovely Venom

“Agents’ names are behind a damn fortress of firewalls,” Shane says, his voice calm but firm. “Nothing civil service came up when I ran a background check.”

“Shouldn’t that have been a hint?”

Shane leans back in his desk chair. “No. She could have just been a woman working somewhere off the books with no credit history.”

Because that’s the woman they expect me to be with. A nobody.

I bolt out of the chair. “Were you both just waiting for me to implode over her?”

Shane narrows his eyes on me. “With all due respect, brother, I’ve had other issues on my mind. My wife is pregnant. And her father is still missing. Did you forget that Richard Donnelly can show up at any time to kill me? You? Us?”

“Of course not.” I shake my head, trying to clear it. “You said her name is Raina Riatt?”

Raina.

The rain is a rebirth. Shedding skin like a snake.

“Aye. And for the record, she’s no longer with the DEA,” Shane says. “They fired her after that botched raid you and Rhys tried to intercept.”

“Oh.” My brain spins as the walls close around me.

Shane watches me closely. “Was it just sex?”

“Yeah,” I say with a scoff. “And I want more.”

“You should leave that one alone,” Shane warns. “Being let go from the DEA doesn’t make her less dangerous. It makes hermore. She might be looking to turn people in to get her job back with them or another agency.”

“Message received, Shane. Can I have the comb back?” I ask quietly.

Growing up close, working together in the PI business, and doing hits for the O’Rourkes, my brothers and I can read each other like open books. Shane is on to me, and I have to decide if I give a fuck.

Shane removes the comb from the plastic bag andhands it to me. “Be careful, Connor.”

“I always am.”

“We good, cousin?” Rhys steps toward me, eyebrows furrowed.

I consider calling out Rhys, who has a damn stalker that he’s sure breaks into his apartment when he’s not there.

“Aye,” I say instead. I know they’re looking out for me.

If I have another close call like this, I’ll start putting them at risk. At least I have a name. And Blade has an address.

But how far do I want to take this obsession?

I PACE IN MY APARTMENTlater that day, the comb clutched in my fist. It gave me the answer to every fucked-up question spinning in my head.

Raina Riatt. The mystery girl with chaotic green eyes, a long golden braid, and a smart mouth that I want to fuck.

Her name repeats in my skull, my tat throbbing for her. Raina is clean. Sharp. Like her. And now that I know it, now that I’ve said it in my head, I can’t unhear it. It’s a damn whisper that won’t shut up.

She’s real now.

And suddenly I’m the one unraveling.

I run my calloused fingertips over the teeth edges of the comb, wishing they’d slice me open. It might help cut through the fog tightening in my chest.

Knowing her name doesn’t make it better. It makes it worse. Now I can’t pretend it was just sex. I can’t pretend I haven’t memorized the sound of her laugh. Or the wayher hair smelled. Or how she stole hours from me and made me forget everything else.