Page 48 of Steel Vengeance
“Thank you for helping me,” she murmured.
The woman grinned. “Of course, dear. It’s not the first time I’ve patched someone up. You should’ve seen the state of them when they used to come here.” She shook her head. “Such dangerous work.”
Sloane assumed “them” meant Stitch and his team. She realized she didn’t know much about what he’d done in the military, before he left. They’d never really talked about it.
“You rest, dear. You’ve had a nasty shock. Someone tried to kill you.”
Thanks for the reminder.
It still made no sense. Who’d want to kill her? A rookie agent, barely getting by undercover. A nobody.
Then she remembered the phone call.
Matthew!
She grabbed the woman’s arm.
“Where’s Stitch? I need to talk to him.”
“Are you in pain?”
“No, I just need to talk to him.”
“He’s gone out, but he’ll be back later.” She made to leave. “I’ve made some stew, so let me know if you’re hungry.”
Sloane shook her head. She couldn’t eat. Not now that she remembered.
Oh, God. Oh, God.
Please let it not be true.
But there was nothing she could do now. She had to wait for Stitch to get back—and he wasn’t going to be happy with what she had to say.
“You didwhat?”
His icy blue eyes locked onto her, intense and unforgiving.
“I’m sorry. I thought it was best to keep him in the loop. I couldn’t email Jeremy, since he’s mixed up in this, so I figured I’d better report back to Matthew.”
Needless to say, Matthew hadn’t been thrilled to hear from her. But that changed when she told him what she’d found out.
“You should’ve talked to me first,” Stitch said. He’d changed into a t-shirt and jeans, and she couldn’t help but notice his tanned, muscular arms or how his jeans hugged his thick thighs just right.
His tattoo was on full display now—black ink twisting in a Celtic design down his forearm to his wrist. Another one covered his bicep, disappearing under his shirt sleeve.
“Why?” Her cheeks heated up. “You’re not my boss. I don’t report to you.”
“I told you when we started this…”
“That was then. Things are different now. We know Omari’s running drugs, and we know Jeremy’s involved. After you left last night, I thought it over and decided Matthew needed to know. If Jeremy’s turning a blind eye or somehow involved in getting drugs into the States, the CIA has to be in on it.”
Stitch stared at her for a long moment. “From your side, that makes sense.”
Was he actually agreeing with her?
She frowned at him. “Thank you.”
He moved closer and sat on the bed. The ancient springs creaked under his weight, tilting her toward him. He was all muscle and heat, freshly showered, his hair still damp. She had to fight the urge to touch those rock-hard thighs.