Exploited
Page 49

But with Hannah it was hard to go slow. I felt this need to make her mine. And quickly. Before she slipped away.
Why am I thinking like that? She’s not going anywhere.
“Hannah, the other night was amazing. You don’t need to do anything special because of it,” I assured her.
“I still feel so silly.” She sounded embarrassed.
“Don’t. Please. Things are great. Better than great. I’m glad you opened up to me and let me see what’s going on with you.”
“You’re too good to me, Mason.” Hannah sighed.
“Not good enough. I can always do better,” I joked, trying to lighten the mood.
“See you tonight, then.”
“Tonight,” I agreed.
I hung up and sat there, grinning like mad at nothing in particular. I didn’t even try to hide it.
I felt good.
Better than good.
I felt amazing.
And it was all because of Hannah.
“Why are you smiling like that?”
Madison’s voice had me instantly tense.
“Nothing,” I muttered, glancing at my former lover.
Madison’s mouth was pursed and she crossed her arms over her chest defensively. I wished we could move past the shittiness of how we had started. I wanted to be civil with her. I hated the workplace awkwardness. But Madison didn’t seem to be in any hurry to rectify things. She actually seemed to enjoy the discomfort her scorned-woman routine elicited.
“No one smiles like that over nothing,” she continued.
Why was she asking?
What was it to her?
“I’m seeing someone, all right?” I spat out. Madison’s expression didn’t change.
“I didn’t think you dated. Isn’t that what you told me a dozen times?” she snapped.
I sighed. I didn’t want to have this conversation. Not at work. Not ever.
“Yeah, well, I guess I needed to find the right woman,” I replied nastily.
There was a flicker in Madison’s eyes that looked like hurt and I regretted my words. I didn’t want to make her feel bad, but the bitch routine was getting old really fast.
Still, I shouldn’t have reacted like that.
Madison straightened her shoulders and stuck out her chin. “This came in the mail for you and was mixed up with my stuff.” Her words were clipped and hard. She dropped a thin brown envelope on my desk.
I could try apologizing for the hundredth time. But I knew it would get me nowhere.
“Thanks,” I said to Madison’s retreating back.
Chaz strolled by, coffee cup in hand, obnoxious smirk on his face. “You sure know how to make enemies, don’t you, Kohler?”
One of these days I’d punch Chaz Edwards. Punch him hard. So that he didn’t wake up for a very long time.
“Keep on walking, Edwards,” Perry piped up, appearing by my side.
Chaz laughed. “So you have Agent Dumb-ass fighting your battles now?”
Perry’s face flushed in humiliation. I got to my feet, towering over Chaz’s much smaller frame. He recoiled slightly, which was extremely satisfying.
“I think you need to worry about your own life more than mine. If I had a wife seen out with several different men who weren’t me, I’d be less inclined to comment on the relationships of others,” I sneered.
Chaz drew himself upright, clenching his fists. “You need to keep your false information to yourself, Kohler,” he growled.
Chaz’s wife’s indiscretions were common knowledge around the office. It just wasn’t something anyone spoke about within his earshot. I would have felt bad for him if he hadn’t been such an asshole.
“Back off, Chaz. We’ve all got work to do,” Perry said, coming to stand between us. I wasn’t sure what Perry thought he could do if Chaz and I decided to go at it. We’d break him like a twig.
Chaz glared at me, his hatred palpable. “It’s only a matter of time until you’re out of here. You’re not the great agent you think you are. You’re a two-bit fake.”
I should have been angry at Chaz’s insults, but I refused to let him bother me. His opinion didn’t matter.
I was a good agent. A great agent. He knew it. I knew it.
Everyone fucking knew it.
Even saddled with the worst cases, I was a hell of a lot better than Chaz Edwards.
Thus the reason for his venom.
“Walk away, Edwards. While you can,” I warned.
Chaz stormed off and I sat back down at my desk.
“Jeesh, what’s his problem?” Perry asked. I noticed he was shaking. Probably scared to death Chaz would deck him for intervening.
“Who gives a shit?” I muttered.
“What’s that?” Perry pointed to the envelope I had all but forgotten about in the showdown with Chaz.
“Not sure.” I picked it up with some hesitation. It had been scanned before making it up to the floor, so I was pretty confident it wasn’t laced with anthrax. But you could never be too sure.
My name and the field office’s address were typed on a solid white label. No way to trace handwriting. It had been mailed from within Richmond, according to the postmark.
“What if it’s poisoned or something? It’s too small to be a bomb.” Perry sounded panicked.
“You’ve watched too many movies. I’m sure it’s nothing. Probably an invitation to the annual Bureau softball game or something.” Carefully I unsealed the envelope. I pulled out a small, perfectly folded piece of white computer paper.
I opened it. Two sentences.
*Trust is a liar’s plaything. Those closest to us are the biggest deceivers.*
“What does that mean? Who’s it from?” Perry asked, reading over my shoulder.
I balled up the paper and threw it in the wastebasket.
“Does it matter? I don’t have time for cryptic bullshit. It’s probably some wacko. Nothing important.” I opened my email. “I got a list of new ISPs to trace. We should get started on those.”
“Yeah, okay. I’ll get on it too.” Perry scampered back to his desk.
Trust is a liar’s plaything.
Those closest to us are the biggest deceivers.
It felt like a warning.
About whom?
It was nothing. Empty words meant to rattle me. Probably from some nut job who had pulled my name out of the papers.