Chapter 10
Cricket
“Why are you sniffing around my girl? First, you went after Miche, and now Doralee? You always want what’s mine!” Crash projected his insanity, which made me make a split second decision that will cause me nothing but pain in the future.
I pushed out my mating pheromone to taunt him.
His eyes narrowed, but I couldn’t leave it alone. “Sniff the air, dear brother. You didn’t know what you were talking about then, and you definitely don’t now.”
I saw the moment his spirit broke, like he took a metaphorical knife to the heart. Unable to bask in his pain, I turned my attention to Doralee, and now I’m spraying shit off my boots.
Seems fitting given my mood.
“What the hell is it with you two?” Doralee walks up and I turn the hose to the tread of her boots.
“It’s a long story,” I sigh.
“It was a girl, right?” Doralee stomps her boots and lifts the heels to inspect them. “Guys don’t declare war unless it’s over a girl.”
“Sometimes we do over car brands, or sports teams, or rap battles.”
She rolls her eyes. “Who was she?”
“No one.” I turn off the hose and face her. “Seriously, it was no one. He was itching for a fight and used a girl he had no claim over—who I had never met before and who threw herself at me during a party—as his excuse. Now he’s trying to do it again.”
“With me? No.” She shakes her head. “He hasn’t shown the slightest interest until you showed up today.”
“Exactly.”
“Is this a sibling rivalry thing?”
“No.” I run my fingers through my hair. “This is something I can’t explain right now, but it goes way beyond sibling rivalry.”
“Oh.” She bites her lip, and I don’t miss the fact that she’s avoiding her part in this.
Maybe she doesn’t want to acknowledge the attraction between us.
As a woman in this world, I’m sure she’s sensitive to team perception and avoids any entanglements, but that is not going to work for me or my cat.
“Anyway,” I drawl. “I’m going to take a quick shower, change, and grab some food. Do you want me to make you a plate?”
“Yes. Thank you.” She blushes. “I’ll meet you in the SpecOps office in thirty minutes.”
We walk to our opposite ends of the warehouse, the cavernous building echoing our footsteps.
I strip, slide into a pair of shorts and flip-flops, grab my toiletry kit, and hit the showers.
Any other place, I’d take a long one and work out some of my aggression on my cock, but even with private stalls this is a communal bathroom, and I can’t take care of myself while listening to some guy take a shit on the other side of the wall.
Not that there is anyone else in here right now.
Wearing another pair of black cargo pants and a black tank top, I stop by the commissary’s grab-and-go case and snag a couple of sandwiches, bags of chips, and a container of vegetables with a side of ranch dressing.
Walking in, I find Crash, Pitch, and Doralee sitting in excruciating silence with a local map up on the screen. Crash is stewing, Doralee is uncomfortable, and Pitch looks tired—like he woke up to be here.
I set the food down on the table and lock eyes with Crash. “Don’t be a baby.”
“Fuck you.” His eyes narrow.
“You upset my mate, even if she doesn’t know what that means, and I will destroy you. As Packard would say, be a fucking professional.”
Pitch swings his head in my direction, eyes wide. “Holy shit! That’s what I picked up on earlier? I wasn’t sure what that scent was at first.”
Doralee looks at the sandwiches and picks one, unwrapping it while glancing up at me, completely oblivious to the silent conversation going on. “You have the address, Cricket. Care to share it?”
“Sure.” I pull my phone out and hand it to her, letting her input it in the computer.
She takes a bite of her sandwich and uses the mouse to zoom in on the property.
“This is a mostly defunct cattle ranch southeast of here. There was an arena where we saw them erecting a stage, but there were no captives there—no women or children. However, we overheard a few security guys talking about trucking them in tomorrow night. We think they’re keeping them on the move, maybe in a convoy or something. ”
“We?” Crash shakes his head and mutters, “Nevermind. If we move on them tomorrow, the day after they meet two new buyers, we lose our chance at the other auctions and most likely destroy our covers.”
“True, but we could tag the trailers tomorrow night. That way, we’re following the captives, as well as the security team.” I glare at my twin. “And I’ll identify any shifters in the mix.”
He shakes his head. “Can’t risk them screaming, crying, or alerting security before the auction.”
“Then what do you suggest?” I tilt my head toward Doralee, hinting to speak out loud.
“Should we get the other agents involved in this discussion?” He directs his question to her.
“I’m not sure who is dirty, and since I have no evidence to confirm my suspicions, I have no reason to exclude any of them.
If they wanted to blow up the investigation, wouldn’t they have ratted us out or killed us at the meet or greet?
” She slides her eyes to me, looking for agreement or maybe a different argument.
I nod. “If they’re confident they have you where they want you, they’ll be fine letting you go to the auction and placing a bid. But maybe we won't tell them we’re going to place trackers tomorrow night.”
“So, just the location and what we overheard, and see what ideas they have?”
I nod, my eyes going back to Crash. “What do you think, LT?”
Yeah, that platitude was drenched in sarcasm.
He doesn’t miss it and narrows his eyes. “Sounds good, but I think this can wait until the morning in-brief.”
“Agreed.” Doralee takes another bite off her sandwich.
“Well,” Crash stands up, not looking at either of us. “I’m going to bed. See you in the morning, Agent Baker.”
Pitch also stands, a derpy smile twisting the corners of his lips. “Yep. Back to bed for me.”
I unwrap my sandwich and dig in, the weight of her stare causing me to bring my head up. “What?”
“You two need some serious family counseling.” She chuckles and tears open a bag of chips.
“It wouldn’t help. He’s a stubborn ass.”
“Outside, you said that you tried to explain yourself but he wouldn’t let you. Are you telling me he’s never heard the truth about that no one girl?”
I shake my head. “Nope. He didn’t want to hear it, and I wasn’t able to make him.”
“Could you now? I mean, I saw the two of you fight, and I think if Colonel Packard hadn't stopped you, you would’ve won.”
Snorting, I eye a small refrigerator under a table and stand. “Don’t let him hear you say that. It’ll bruise his fragile ego.”
“Awww.” She pushes out her bottom lip. “He seems like a decent guy. I don’t always like my brother, but I love and respect him. I can’t imagine carrying a decade-old grudge against him.”
Opening the refrigerator, I find soda, beer, and a bottle of Jack. Lifting one of each, I raise my brow. “Want something to drink?”
Her eyes light up. “I’d kill for a Jack and coke.”
“You got it.” I make her a drink and set it down, taking the seat across from her with a beer in hand.
If I’m too close, I’m going to touch her—I won’t be able to stop myself.
A table between us is all the distance I can handle at the moment, and my cat seems to think the lack of business talk means it’s time to make a move.
I’m sure I’m stinking up the place with my pheromones, which is really going to piss Crash off in the morning.
“Tell me about your brother,” I say, wanting to learn everything I can about her.
“Only if you tell me about the no one girl.” She takes a sip of her drink, licking her lips afterwards, which causes all the blood in my head to rush south.
I sigh. “We were in high school and at a friend’s neighborhood party. Crash met some chick, spent the night fucking around with her—making out under the stars and shit—and then spent the next three months talking about her. I never saw or met her.”
Wiping my face, I lean back in my chair.
“Graduation night party, some chick walked up and sat on my lap. We started making out in front of everyone. I thought I was such a badass, all the guys cheering us on and shit, but when he pulled her off me, I should have been more sympathetic to how heartbroken he was.”
“Did she think you were him?”
“No.” Shrugging, I take a long draw of my beer. “He wanted to think so, but no. She knew the difference between us and didn’t think making out with both of us was a big deal. In her neighborhood, it wouldn’t have been a problem.”
“And?” Doralee pushes.
“A few hours later I came home, and he was gone. Packed his shit, emptied our college fund, and bounced. I had to join the military to keep a roof over our mother’s head—and that was that.”
She furrows her brow. “That’s it? He left over that?”
I shrug. “I told you, he’s stubborn.”
“There has to be something else. Were you fighting before that night?”
Shaking my head, I lift my empty beer bottle to my lips and frown. “No. We had our own friends and did our own things, but we planned to go to college together. Maybe we weren’t as close as some twins, but I always felt like things were fine between us.”
She gets up and grabs me another beer out of the refrigerator.
I pop the top and lift it to my lips. “Thanks.”
“Something is not right with that story, Cricket. You should push the issue so the two of you can heal. Even if you aren’t besties afterward, don’t you think you’d feel better knowing things were good between you and your brother? What does your mom think?”
“Our mother died three years ago.” The muscles in my jaw flex as anger simmers in my belly. “I don’t know if he knows, much less cares that our mother died with no one at her side. As far as I know, he never talked to her again either.”
Doralee reaches across the table and grabs my hand. “I’m so sorry.”