“We don’t need to review the security cameras,” I said. “We can do one
better.”
His lips thinned. “Actual footage will give us more details.”
I was shaking my head before he finished. “No, you’re not thinking.”
His brow lowered, and he opened his mouth to argue.
I held up my hand, hoping to cut short whatever diatribe trembled on the tip
of his tongue. “The security tapes can only show you the halls, they can’t show
you what he did inside.” My stomach pitched at the reminder of Ellery’s
violation, but I did my best not to show it. I didn’t need it to be the spark that set
Kayden off. “Let’s use what tools we have.”
“What tools—” Comprehension hit him, and he briefly considered it, then he
grimaced. “You heard Delacourt. There’s no way to determine what will happen
if we continue to combine our abilities. I’m not sure it’s smart to keep playing with the unknown.”
“I don’t think combining our talents twice is going to spawn something new
and unique.” It felt strange to be the one urging him to push the rules, especially
after his lack of hesitation the first time around. What changed?
He looked away. “You don’t know that.”
What the hell? “Fine, then let me do it on my own.”
That brought his head up.
I met his glare with my own, refusing to back down. This was too important.
Whether he agreed to come along for the ride or not, it was going to happen. I
needed to know if Ellery’s taunt was for the man standing in front of me or had
been left behind with Kelsey. The answer was crucial in proving or disproving my burgeoning suspicions. Trying to meet him halfway, I offered, “Look, we can
pull the tapes afterward, and use them to confirm whatever I find.”
“Pulling the tapes won’t set you on your ass,” he growled.
He could not possibly be worried about me. “And he may not even be on them, so we could just waste a shitload of time trying to convince Terrance to let
us watch them,” I snapped back, stepping into his personal space. “You have two
choices, watch, or join in. Either way, stop arguing with me and say, ‘Yes, Cyn’.”
Something undefined flared in his face. “Fine, dammit.”
“Good.” I let my lips curve with a mocking edge. “So nice to have your permission.”
Whatever emotion he battled changed and left behind the more easily
identifiable expression of male frustration. He grabbed my upper arms and
dragged me close. “You’re going to drive me crazy.” Then, before I could react,
he pressed a punishing kiss against my lips, then pulled away.
Unsure how to handle his quick kiss, I managed a feeble, “I think that’s my
line.”
He studied me, his frustration bleeding away. “You really don’t get it do
you?”
“Get what?”
“Do you know what it does to watch you go under?” He didn’t wait for an
