Page 40 of Lethal Attraction

Dominic stares at Bailey with silent desperation—a plea for her to hear their reason.

The Southern leader closes her eyes as her face twists. “His name is Liam.”

“I don’t care, Princess.” Theo shakes his head. “If he’s choosing his job over you, he means fuck all to me.”

“He isn’t choosing his job over me,” she mutters, but there’s no conviction in her words. It’s almost as if she doesn’t believe herself either.

“Keep telling yourself that,” Dom murmurs before pushing past her. Theo follows, plopping back down on the coffee table as silence blankets the living room.

Atlas looks like he’s in fucking heaven, his eyes bouncing around to everyone as he presses his fingers to his lips. He glances at me, snorting lightly before covering it with a cough.

My lips twitch and I have to look away from him before we both break out in hysterics. I mean, come on! How often are our meetings this entertaining?

Meanwhile, Rowan’s got this wicked vein popping out of his forehead as he angrily scowls at Theo and Dom. Addison notices it, rolling her lips in as she ghosts a finger over the throbbing, raised skin.

I bet he wishes he had a cigarette right now. Or ten.

“This has been informative…” Clint, one of the South assassins, drawls as he claps his hands. “But we should start tracking. Alana, dear, can you send me those coordinates so Max and I can get a move on?”

Connor’s eye twitches at the endearment as his wife sends the coordinates to the team. She slaps her husband’s bicep lightly, reigning him in from throttling the other assassins helping us.

“We’ll be in touch,” Max waves a hand over his shoulder before the other men dip out of the house.

Bailey rests her head back against her shoulders, taking a deep breath. “If this is as big as we’re speculating, we’re going to need more bodies.”

“I can reach out to Ford and my brother, Logan,” Addison proposes. “I’m sure they would be willing to help.”

“Good idea,” Rowan praises. “Having the Northwestern branch’s skills would really benefit us in the long run.”

Addison types away at her phone’s screen as I thrum with a buzz. I get to professionally follow Reed around. It’s definitely not stalking if I think about it this way.

“Everyone stay connected for the next steps,” Rowan dismisses. “Thalia, do you need backup? If Brooks is out there, he most likely has a trail on you. Bailey’s team can check in.”

I wave a dismissive hand as I slip my helmet on. “Relax. I can handle him. It’s not like I haven’t already terrorized the little shit before.”

Al laughs. “Didn’t you dangle him from a skyscraper by his jeans the last time?”

“Yup!” I bounce over to the front door. “And I’ll do it again, too.”

“Give him hell!” Atlas shouts after me.

Oh, I fully plan to give Brooks something. A fist to the fucking trachea if I can.

Chapter twelve

Reed

Little Devil:

Wyd?

I frown at my phone’s screen as I enjoy my break in the connected room of the ER. There’s a sad little table that holds my lunch and a microwave beeps from the countertop.

W-Y-D?

What does that mean?

This question may show my age, but what does that mean?