the air. “He said it was urgent.”
Great. Just what he didn’t need then. Trouble with some government jerk. “Tell him I’m not available—”
“Like I’d buy that BS,” a male replied as he shouldered in after Janet. The man’s sharp gaze flickered assessing over Drake. “Especially since I saw you saunter up here five minutes ago.”
Janet had actually
brought
the guy to his office?
“It’s the badge,” the fellow said with a hard grin. “And the gun…they tend to get action.”
“I’m sorry,” Janet whispered.
“Forget it.” Drake rolled back his shoulders. “Just shut the door on your way out.” He’d have this guy hitting the street in moments. Not like it was the first time an agent had paid him a visit. Sometimes, the visits were about his past. About the missions he’d done. And sometimes, they were even about Uncle Sam needing him to help again.
You couldn’t really leave the business. Not for good. Some ties were never broken.
The door softly closed behind Janet.
Drake took his seat and motioned for the agent. “Didn’t catch your name—”
The guy flashed his ID. “Special Agent Victor Monroe.”
The name meant nothing. “And what can I do for you this incredibly early morning, Agent?” Drake didn’t bother keeping the impatience from his voice.
The agent eased into the chair across from him.
“I was informed of the…scare you had at your Vegas casino recently.”
Drake let his brows climb. That had been
very
recently. “Your intel is fast.”
“Three bombs,” the guy reminded him. “That’s the kind of news that has to pass quickly.”
Drake waited for the agent to continue.
Victor cleared his throat. “I couldn’t help but notice those bombs were found rather easily, as if you had a map leading straight to them…”
Drake kept staring.
Victor leaned forward. “Tell me where she is.”
The hell,
no.
“Who?”
“We’re alone in here, so cut the bull. I need to find Jazz.”
Jazz? The agent’s tone had far too much familiarity for Drake. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”
“Cut the crap. She left Vegas with you. My intel put her on your plane, and the way you found those bombs, so damn fast, I
know
she told you about them.”
“This little visit is over.” Drake rose and glared at the guy.
Get the hell out of here.
“I’m taking her in,” Victor said as he stood. The guy was almost as tall as Drake. Victor’s hair was a dark brown, and his eyes, a light blue, were hard with intensity. “So save me some time and tell me where she is. If she’s here at the casino—”
“Find criminals on your own time. Not mine.”
Victor’s jaw hardened. “Ah, so you know what she is?”
“Find her on your own,” he gritted out again. He’d walked away from her. There was no way she was still at his house.
Hell, he hadn’t even locked the door on his way out. Hadn’t even put a guard on her.
Because I don’t want her anymore. Because I won’t let another beautiful, lying woman try to destroy me and the people close to me.
I. Don’t. Want. Her.
And there was no one there to call him a liar.
“Ah, I don’t think you actually grasp the urgency of the situation.” Victor leaned over Drake’s desk, resting his hands on the old wood. “I need Jazz, and I need her now. She’s to be placed in federal custody immediately.”
“And she said that she wasn’t running from the law,” Drake muttered. “Another lie.” How unsurprising.
Victor’s eyelashes flickered. “I don’t think you understand—”
“Yeah, I understand just fine. Jasmine is a liar and a thief, and she’s not my problem anymore.” The words were hard. They had to be.
He would
not
think of the way Jasmine had looked when he’d last seen her on that balcony. The pain that he’d heard in her voice as she called out after him.
She was playing him.
Just like—
No. He slammed the door on that memory.
The FBI agent pulled out a
Great. Just what he didn’t need then. Trouble with some government jerk. “Tell him I’m not available—”
“Like I’d buy that BS,” a male replied as he shouldered in after Janet. The man’s sharp gaze flickered assessing over Drake. “Especially since I saw you saunter up here five minutes ago.”
Janet had actually
brought
the guy to his office?
“It’s the badge,” the fellow said with a hard grin. “And the gun…they tend to get action.”
“I’m sorry,” Janet whispered.
“Forget it.” Drake rolled back his shoulders. “Just shut the door on your way out.” He’d have this guy hitting the street in moments. Not like it was the first time an agent had paid him a visit. Sometimes, the visits were about his past. About the missions he’d done. And sometimes, they were even about Uncle Sam needing him to help again.
You couldn’t really leave the business. Not for good. Some ties were never broken.
The door softly closed behind Janet.
Drake took his seat and motioned for the agent. “Didn’t catch your name—”
The guy flashed his ID. “Special Agent Victor Monroe.”
The name meant nothing. “And what can I do for you this incredibly early morning, Agent?” Drake didn’t bother keeping the impatience from his voice.
The agent eased into the chair across from him.
“I was informed of the…scare you had at your Vegas casino recently.”
Drake let his brows climb. That had been
very
recently. “Your intel is fast.”
“Three bombs,” the guy reminded him. “That’s the kind of news that has to pass quickly.”
Drake waited for the agent to continue.
Victor cleared his throat. “I couldn’t help but notice those bombs were found rather easily, as if you had a map leading straight to them…”
Drake kept staring.
Victor leaned forward. “Tell me where she is.”
The hell,
no.
“Who?”
“We’re alone in here, so cut the bull. I need to find Jazz.”
Jazz? The agent’s tone had far too much familiarity for Drake. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”
“Cut the crap. She left Vegas with you. My intel put her on your plane, and the way you found those bombs, so damn fast, I
know
she told you about them.”
“This little visit is over.” Drake rose and glared at the guy.
Get the hell out of here.
“I’m taking her in,” Victor said as he stood. The guy was almost as tall as Drake. Victor’s hair was a dark brown, and his eyes, a light blue, were hard with intensity. “So save me some time and tell me where she is. If she’s here at the casino—”
“Find criminals on your own time. Not mine.”
Victor’s jaw hardened. “Ah, so you know what she is?”
“Find her on your own,” he gritted out again. He’d walked away from her. There was no way she was still at his house.
Hell, he hadn’t even locked the door on his way out. Hadn’t even put a guard on her.
Because I don’t want her anymore. Because I won’t let another beautiful, lying woman try to destroy me and the people close to me.
I. Don’t. Want. Her.
And there was no one there to call him a liar.
“Ah, I don’t think you actually grasp the urgency of the situation.” Victor leaned over Drake’s desk, resting his hands on the old wood. “I need Jazz, and I need her now. She’s to be placed in federal custody immediately.”
“And she said that she wasn’t running from the law,” Drake muttered. “Another lie.” How unsurprising.
Victor’s eyelashes flickered. “I don’t think you understand—”
“Yeah, I understand just fine. Jasmine is a liar and a thief, and she’s not my problem anymore.” The words were hard. They had to be.
He would
not
think of the way Jasmine had looked when he’d last seen her on that balcony. The pain that he’d heard in her voice as she called out after him.
She was playing him.
Just like—
No. He slammed the door on that memory.
The FBI agent pulled out a
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