Page 44 of Jonas

Jonas let out a long, exaggerated sigh from beside me. Or maybe it wasn’t inflated, what did I know?

“And, once again, we’re here because?”

“Lore’s on her way,” Nebraska answered. “She didn’t want to meet in the city.”

I heard Jonas blow out a breath. When I glanced over at him he didn’t look happy about this Lore person.

“Who’s Lore?”

“She’s…” Nebraska started and stopped. “A fixer.”

“Like Oliva Pope?” I asked, referencing the baddest of bad TV heroines.

Nebraska’s lips twitched but she shook her head. “Better.”

“Well, fuck a dog up his ass, now I can’t wait to meet her.”

Zane’s head snapped in my direction so quickly I feared he’d sprained his neck.

“I wasn’t sure about you,” he said as he jabbed a finger at me. “But I think you’ll do.”

Kira gave me a wide smile and a wink.

I wasn’t sure what felt better, Zane’s approval, Kira smiling at me like she was my friend, or Jonas’s hand that was now resting on my thigh.

No, I was sure—Jonas’s hand. But Kira’s smile came in a close second.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“Maybe we pause the Tom fuckery,” Cash suggested. “And fill Jonas in. He looks like he could use a bubble bath.”

As much as I appreciated him moving the conversation along, I still flipped him off. “Not me who likes a bath.”

“Don’t knock it ’til you’ve tried it. There’s nothing like a nice long soak in some lavender-scented bath oil after a day of torturing intel out of a pissant.”

When he put it like that, it didn’t sound so bad.

“Have you tried eucalyptus salts?” Derrika asked. “I find they help work out knots better than the oil. But, lavender is relaxing.”

Cash shot me a shit-eating grin before he transferred it to Derrika. Though when his grin hit her it became far more flirtatious than I was comfortable with.

“I haven’t, but if you’d like to share⁠—”

The growl that came out of my throat sounded prehistoric to my own ears. I knew I was right when Cash chuckled.

“Chill, Four. I was going to ask your girl if she had any she’d like to share.”

Sure he was.

And my girl?

Thankfully, Smith had mercy on me and got to the heart of the conversation I wanted to have. “The man on the right.” He pointed to a screen, “is Jun De Chen, Bolin’s brother. The man on the left is the man who took you and Derrika hostage, John Wu. Canadian-born to Chinese parents who were in Canada on visas.”

“Visas?” Derrika asked.

“The mother was there on a student visa. The father a work visa.” Kira explained. “This was in the early seventies.”

“Are his parents’ families wealthy?” Derrika continued.