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“Not long.”

A soft hum came through the phone. “Hurry.”

Jesus.

Fucking.

Christ.

“Nyssa…” I tried to sound normal. Failed.

“You keep me waiting and I’ll make it torture.”

“You already do.”

Her laugh followed. Then—the call ended.

“Problem?” Rafe asked.

“Yes.”

“Facility?”

“Worse.”

My phone buzzed again. A voice message. I pressed play.

“Alaric.”

My name sounded entirely too pleased in her mouth.

“I found another one of your shirts.”

A pause.

Then a soft laugh.

“I think I’m keeping this one too.”

The message ended.

I stared at the phone.

“Turn the car around.”

“You serious?”

One nod. “Push the meeting until tomorrow.”

“Done.”

Silence settled between us.

Goddamn woman was going to destroy me.

She was going to⁠—

“Alaric.”