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I take a protective stance in front of Camila as she scans every officer in the building.
Jac shoots out from his chair, trudging towards me. “Xander,” he hisses. “Have you been taking—”
“Do not finish that fucking sentence, Jac.”
I knew it was coming. Just one look at us together, Camila in my clothes, has set his protective side off. But I’m not sure if he’s protecting me or Camila. He can see the train wreck waiting to happen from a mile away.
She shuffles behind us, coming to stand next to me.
“Now is not the time,” I murmur as quietly as I can so that she doesn’t hear. “What’s more important is what are the fucking pigs doing here?” I finish.
“I don’t know. They showed up at the estate this morning. They didn’t think anyone would be at the club at this time. I had to come with them. And trying to get a hold of you has been a separate fucking task.”
“Any more on Aidan?”
“No. But I have a feeling this was his doing.”
I nod in agreement. I check in on Camila—her arms are folded over her chest, and she’s bouncing on her feet.
My hands itch to reach out to her. Offer her comfort. Tell her she’ll be fine no matter what happens.
But I can’t.
Not when Jac is here and he’s already suspicious.
Axel leans against the bar, arms folded across his chest, watching the other officers. He works out, that’s for sure.
Jac nudges me with his elbow. “Hey, newbie?” he asks, jerking his head towards Axel.
“You think?”
“He’s not joining in the search, just watching that old bloke.”
Axel’s eyes find us, and he carefully regards us. I subtly take a few steps to the right, shielding Camila out of view again. Axel smirks and diverts his gaze. Something in my blood runs hotter, and I stand in front of Camila fully, Jac throwing me a curious glance.
Dave approaches us and clears his throat. “I’d like access to your systems, if possible.”
They haven’t found anything, as expected.
“Sure,” Jac answers without missing a beat, leading him to the office.
The computers at DL are all clean. All the money laundering happens back at the estate.
Camila pulls my attention. “I should probably go home."
My body tenses. This wasn’t the fucking plan.
But I can’t force her to stay.
Yet.
“Okay,” I reply, and she smiles at me.
We stay there, just looking at each other, and I feel like a fucking teenager who just asked his crush out on a date.
God fucking dammit. What is this woman doing to me?
She spins, opening the club doors, gym bag slung over her shoulder.
