Chapter 9
Colliding Puzzle Pieces
“What do you want for breakfast?” Brazen’s lips murmur against mine on our second day in Circuit.
“Whatever you want,” I say with a girly grin.
He smiles back before climbing out of bed, and then he struts so sexily in his low hanging shorts that reveal those mouthwatering hiplines. I smile as I hold the sheet up to my chest, and I laugh as he slides over the bar to the kitchen.
As the pans begin clanking, I climb out of bed to pull on my own pair of sexy shorts starting very low before slipping into a tight camisole shirt that shows at least three inches of stomach.
I walk out, and Brazen’s smirk turns menacing as he says, “Unless you feel like going back to bed, I suggest changing.”
I grin devilishly as the tattered jean shorts draw his attention, and his bottom lip slides between his teeth. His twisted fantasies become seductively clear, and it’s starting to turn me on.
“We can always eat later,” he sizzles out before swishing to me, and his lips
consume mine before he jerks me to his body.
“Damn it, Hale. I gave him the right blood. I’m not a fool,” Clay yells from just outside the door.
Clay’s back? Did he ever leave? I thought he did.
“Obviously someone fucked up. I know for a fact the blood bust I made was that of pure, undiluted blood. I could fucking smell it. There’s no way this is accurate.”
Brazen disengages from our heated passion to join the heated argument just outside.
“Would you care to clue me in, or is this a private discussion meant for the whole hotel to hear?” Brazen mocks.
Hale barges by him to enter our room, and his eyes lock on mine as his jaw tenses. My skimpy attire is apparently not what he was expecting. It’s not like he hasn’t seen my entire body over and over.
“The blood bust Hale made finally had some lab results come back. Campbell’s paperwork and log was almost undecipherable. It took forever, but the other doctors finally sorted through everything. The blood from the bust has already been burned because of the threat of undiluted blood getting out, but the results from the earlier samples came back clean,” Clay exhales in exasperation.
“It wasn’t diluted at all. It was straight from the fucking vein. Campbell made a fucking mistake. Retest the samples,” Hale growls.
“We can’t. The samples were burned as well,” Clay grumbles in frustration.
“Is it possible you were wrong?” Brazen chirps.
“No it’s not. I know I’m not wrong about this.”
Hale grips his head, and Brazen plops down in a chair while his hands steeple in front of his face. That’s his thinking position. When Hale steeples his hands in front of his face, he’s seriously turned on and thinking of ways to fuck me. Why the fuck did that just come to my mind?
“Maybe you were wrong. Maybe it really was just lesser diluted blood similar to what the Metropolis citizens get legally. In a few years, blood runners will be obsolete all together once full bloods realize there’s no penalty for consuming the blood there,” Brazen offers insightfully.
“If Hale says it wasn’t diluted, then it wasn’t. It’s his specialty,” I murmur somewhat defensively.
Brazen’s eyes cut toward me with a stinging hue while Hale’s offer adoration. I look away from both of them and take the file from Clay to keep from interjecting myself into the conversation again. I study the notes, even though biology and science were by far my worst subjects.
“Let’s say you were right, why are the tests showing negative?” Brazen mutters through a strained tone.
“I don’t know,” Hale huffs.
My eyes widen as I stare down at the obvious answer everyone else has missed. The documented photos of the blood tell the tale the dead doctor can’t. I can’t make sense of the pathogen report, the cell analysis, or the hemoglobin levels, but I can see the color difference in the packs Hale obtained and the ones documented for testing.
“The blood was swapped,” I gasp.
“What?” Hale sounds off while rushing to me.
