flashed a quick smile, not feeling guilty in the least. It suddenly hit him that Jax had dealt with a similar issue with Emily. His wife had come back into his life, changing his everyday reality. Lach contemplated running his issues with Phoebe by him, but then decided against it. They were friends, but they weren’t close like Jax was with Connor. Hell, after Lach’s clusterfuck with his previous job, he’d disconnected all ties to any friends he’d had back then. All of these memories being dug up were because of Phoebe and he just didn’t have time for any of it. “I appreciate the whiskey, but I’ve got some files to go over.”
“Kevin’s SITREP?”
“Yes.” Lach took that out, knowing full well that Kevin had turned in his interview with Victor Ward. Jax didn’t know that Lach had already read it thoroughly and that Victor had made it clear he was only driving by to check up on his daughter. Lach wasn’t so sure that was the case, but Kevin reported that there was no evidence against his claim. “Give Emily a kiss for me.”
“Over my dead body,” Jax said good-naturedly. Lach did appreciate that his team members didn’t push him too hard to join in their social group, giving him time to acclimate to the new agency. CSA was a hell of a lot different than the FBI and Lach respected the military brother and sisterhood they’d recreated as opposed to the institution that was the FBI. “Well, you’ll find my SITREP in your box as well. It’s rather remarkable, but the interested parties came up negative.”
Lach hadn’t seen Jax’s report and he now felt a pressing need to go review it. It gave him something to do besides thinking of Phoebe. It wasn’t like he and Jax would discuss a case of such importance in front of civilians, but his words indicated that he’d found something noteworthy. Before Lach could turn to go, his phone vibrated.
“I’ve got a call coming in.”
Lach didn’t need to say anything more. Jax knew that he wouldn’t take the call inside the club. He slapped the counter and then turned, walking through the crowd that was gathering. He ignored the mewing submissives that tried to capture his attention and finally made it out to the reception area where it was safe to pull out his phone. A text displayed across the screen that included Phoebe’s codename and the message made his chest tighten, regardless of the reassurance attached to the sentence.
Heart leaving apartment. Heading back to campaign headquarters. I’ve got her six. No need for backup.
* * * *
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Phoebe looked up from the results of today’s polls and saw Lach standing in front of her father’s desk, his jaw tightened to the point the muscle was actually ticking. He actually thought he had the right to be mad? She had put herself out on display, giving him the opportunity to take up where they’d left off after their so-called miscommunication, and he’d turned her down flat.
“I’m working, not that it should concern you. Sam is more than capable of doing his job.” Phoebe leaned back in her father’s leather chair, trying to appear composed and hiding the hurt she felt for the second time in three months. There wouldn’t be a third. “You wouldn’t have approved of him otherwise.”
“I know Sam’s credentials, Phoebe.” Lach leaned down and placed his palms flat on the desk, his dark brown eyes almost black with fury. “I thought it was understood that when you are not in your apartment I am to be within sight of you. You are my primary. Get used to it.”
Phoebe’s anger boiled over and she was out of the chair before Lach was able to pull himself into a standing position. She snatched up her purse that was sitting on the floor beside the desk and kept walking, not bothering to shut off the office light. She heard him call out to her, but she maneuvered her way through the desks and out the front door, Sam on her
“Kevin’s SITREP?”
“Yes.” Lach took that out, knowing full well that Kevin had turned in his interview with Victor Ward. Jax didn’t know that Lach had already read it thoroughly and that Victor had made it clear he was only driving by to check up on his daughter. Lach wasn’t so sure that was the case, but Kevin reported that there was no evidence against his claim. “Give Emily a kiss for me.”
“Over my dead body,” Jax said good-naturedly. Lach did appreciate that his team members didn’t push him too hard to join in their social group, giving him time to acclimate to the new agency. CSA was a hell of a lot different than the FBI and Lach respected the military brother and sisterhood they’d recreated as opposed to the institution that was the FBI. “Well, you’ll find my SITREP in your box as well. It’s rather remarkable, but the interested parties came up negative.”
Lach hadn’t seen Jax’s report and he now felt a pressing need to go review it. It gave him something to do besides thinking of Phoebe. It wasn’t like he and Jax would discuss a case of such importance in front of civilians, but his words indicated that he’d found something noteworthy. Before Lach could turn to go, his phone vibrated.
“I’ve got a call coming in.”
Lach didn’t need to say anything more. Jax knew that he wouldn’t take the call inside the club. He slapped the counter and then turned, walking through the crowd that was gathering. He ignored the mewing submissives that tried to capture his attention and finally made it out to the reception area where it was safe to pull out his phone. A text displayed across the screen that included Phoebe’s codename and the message made his chest tighten, regardless of the reassurance attached to the sentence.
Heart leaving apartment. Heading back to campaign headquarters. I’ve got her six. No need for backup.
* * * *
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Phoebe looked up from the results of today’s polls and saw Lach standing in front of her father’s desk, his jaw tightened to the point the muscle was actually ticking. He actually thought he had the right to be mad? She had put herself out on display, giving him the opportunity to take up where they’d left off after their so-called miscommunication, and he’d turned her down flat.
“I’m working, not that it should concern you. Sam is more than capable of doing his job.” Phoebe leaned back in her father’s leather chair, trying to appear composed and hiding the hurt she felt for the second time in three months. There wouldn’t be a third. “You wouldn’t have approved of him otherwise.”
“I know Sam’s credentials, Phoebe.” Lach leaned down and placed his palms flat on the desk, his dark brown eyes almost black with fury. “I thought it was understood that when you are not in your apartment I am to be within sight of you. You are my primary. Get used to it.”
Phoebe’s anger boiled over and she was out of the chair before Lach was able to pull himself into a standing position. She snatched up her purse that was sitting on the floor beside the desk and kept walking, not bothering to shut off the office light. She heard him call out to her, but she maneuvered her way through the desks and out the front door, Sam on her
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