“You can talk freely in front of her,” Webber murmured. “I’ll tell her anyway.”
Cakes nodded, then said, “There’s been no sign of Cadence Moran. The father, the FBI director, has also fallen off radar. They’ve both taken leave of absences with their respective departments, though Moran took hers before she was fired but won’t actually have a job to come back to. Anyway, they’re smart and they’re not using any of their cards or known cell phones, so we can’t track them that way. Pretty much what I was telling Webber before you came in here, they’re ghosts, and we have no way to track them until they actually want to be found.”
I nodded. “Is there anything else?”
His lips twitched. “Your dad moved out of state.”
“Awesome,” she said. “And that’s it?”
“That’s it,” he confirmed.
“Then you need to get out of here, because I’m about to take my shirt off, and Piers might not like you seeing my boobs,” I said as I grabbed the hem of my shirt.
Cakes laughed then turned around and gave me his back.
I had my t-shirt off before he was out the door.
Piers watched as I took it off and dropped it to the floor.
He didn’t make a move, which only pissed me off more.
“I’m not breakable, Piers!” I bellowed, throwing my arms up in the air.
Cakes cleared his throat and said, “I’m just gonna head out. Let me know what you want to do…later.”
Cakes exited, and I didn’t even care.
I stayed glaring at the man that wouldn’t. Fucking. Touch. Me.
Not only wouldn’t he touch me, but now he was telling me I was weak and breakable, and maybe it would be best for me not to ride on the back of his bike with him, but in a stupid truck by myself, on a poker run?
Absolutely not.
I refused to go if I wasn’t going to be on the back of his bike.
“You’re not breakable?” he asked, coming in close. “If you’re not breakable, why did you piss blood for a week?”
I snapped my mouth shut.
“If you’re not breakable, why did me holding you in my arms cause you pain for three full days?”
I crossed my arms over my chest and narrowed my eyes.
“If you’re not breakable, then why the fuck did I watch you wince every time you put on your panties the first three days?” he continued.
I didn’t have an answer for that.
“You had bruises on almost every inch on the left side of your body,” he continued. “You had abrasions and contusions. Your eyes literally just opened up well enough to see for the first time in two weeks. Today, I watched you laugh and not wince in pain. So tell me, Silver. If you’re not breakable, why the fuck were you acting like it? Looking like it?”
I clenched my jaw.
“Tell me.” He came in closer until his mouth was closer to mine. “What would you do if that was me? Would you take advantage of me when I’m vulnerable?”
I poked him in the chest. “Yes! If you asked me to! And just sayin’, but the same things would’ve happened to you had you been in my situation!”
He blew out a breath that fanned my lips. “That’s not how it works. I’m not breakable like you are. I’m a man, honey. I wouldn’t have gone down with a punch. I wouldn’t have had to lie there and protect my vital organs and head in the fetal position if I found myself on the ground. You survived the only way you could. Yes, you’re breakable. But that’s not a bad thing.”
I threw up my hands, which caused the hat he was wearing to flip off his head. “Well, it’s a bad thing to me when you won’t touch me! When I physically ache to have you inside of me! When I want to be thrown onto the bed we’ve shared for two weeks and fucked so hard that I can’t catch my breath! This is the biggest nightmare ever, and the worst part wasn’t getting beat up. The worst part is, by far, you treating me like I’m some broken doll that you have to handle with care! I don’t need to be handled with care! I need to be fucked, Piers!”