Chapter 5
Chapter Five
He saw the woman leave Cass’s place. Wearing a sweatshirt that was far too big. A sweatshirt that had to belong to Cass.
He’d lost them the previous night. But instead of admitting defeat, he’d just gone and had himself a stake-out at Cass’s place all night long. Because he’d had a hunch…
That sonofabitch took her home.
And she’d stayed there, all freaking night long.
When she left, he followed her. Staying against the edge of buildings. Lurking in the shadows. She slipped into a waiting car, and he hightailed it for the ride that he’d stashed nearby. He also made a point of getting the license plate of the car that picked her up, just in case he lost her again.
But he didn’t lose her. He did make sure that Cass didn’t catch sight of him. Not like he wanted to deal with that big bastard right then. Or, honestly, ever. At least not in any kind of fair hand-to-hand situation. The leader of the Night Strikers would totally kick his ass.
He stayed out of Cass’s sight, and he followed the woman to the high-end condo in downtown Atlanta. He got her address. He got her name.
And within the hour, he also knew…
FBI agent. Cass Striker had just fucked an FBI agent all night long.
He whipped out his phone. “You are not going to believe this shit.” Because he knew pay dirt when he hit it.
And, oh, but this dirt was good. It might just be the key he’d been searching for—the key to wrecking Cass’s entire world.