Page 89 of Rogue

Novák simply stares.

I shrug my shoulders. “With you being Russian and all, I assumed you might have learned this in school . . .”Yeah, right.

“I’m not Russian.”

“Your accent must be—”

His phone rings, interrupting me. “Please excuse me.” He exits the booth, then the Pitt. For a few minutes, Veronica and I watch through the window as he paces back and forth in the parking lot. His calm demeanor turns more agitated with whatever is being discussed.

“I’ll be right back,” I tell Veronica, slipping my gun back inside the waistline of my jeans, certain the backpack is preventing her from catching my actions. “I have to tinkle.”

My pulse pounds and with each step I feel as agitated as my target. Damn Hayden and his rules. I should have shot that Prick while I had the chance.

I lock the bathroom door behind me, remove my phone from my backpack, and call in.

Hayden picks up after two rings. “Report.”

I suck in a breath. “There’s no time to explain. I’m with Novák,” I practically choke on his name. “He’s outside and within reach.”

“You’re with Novák.”

Damn Hayden and his suspicious nature.

“Yes. Permission to terminate the Prick.”

Silence.

“I learned a few interesting things. He’s not Russian, but his accent is Eastern European. And along with his drug connections, he’s investing in some kind of invention.”

“Did he say who he’s working for?”

“Don’t you think that’s be the first thing I’d tell you?” I snap. Frustrated and in a hurry. “Permission to terminate.”

“Undecided.”

I squeeze the phone between my fingers. “Undecided? Is that word even in your vocabulary? He’s right outside and I’m ready to do it.”

“You’re allowing your anger to cloud your judgment.”

Fuck you, Hayden.

“Answer this question and I’ll consider giving you what you want.”

“Whatever. Just hurry—”

“I have reports that Novák’s men have been outside the gates of Freedom’s Bluff. Small town, it was bound to happen sooner or later . . .”

I almost drop the phone.

“Yet my man on the outside informs me word is getting out on TORC.”

No. Don’t ask me. It isn’t me.

“You know anything about this?”

“No. Goddamn it. No. I would never sell you out. Discuss TORC with anyone.”Put Jaxson at risk along with everyone else.

“I’m calling you in. Report back to the Ranch.” I blink, staring at the phone with a mixture of disbelief . . . and fury. Does he or doesn’t he believe me?