Rex’s typing didn’t pause. Apparently the computer guru had accepted the risk of being blown up with the job. How much did a guy like him make, anyway? It couldn’t be enough to remain in bed with Eddie, but once in, always in. “How long is this going to take?” Raider asked, drawing in a large breath as if in pain. Which he actually was.

Eddie read the screen. “We’re staying here until Rex confirms the transfers. Should only be a couple of hours?”

Rex nodded.

Raider cleared his throat. “In that case, I’m taking a seat.” He chose a chair a couple down from Rex in front of a PC with a smaller screen. “Any chance this thing has solitaire on it?”

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Six

Brigid paced the small computer room, her eyes gritty after a long day of working on the computer, reading and listening to all of the evidence her dad had collected, and trying to forget the fact that Raider was in a secured room with Eddie Coonan. Hopefully. Or maybe he’d been shot and left for dead.

She eyed the plain black coffee Wolfe had left for her that morning before leaving with Raider. No whipped cream. No sprinkles. She’d shoved down tears the second she’d seen it. Oh, why hadn’t Wolfe just yelled at her? It’d be so much easier to handle than the plain, unflavored coffee.

Apparently the soldier was angry after hearing of her betrayal. She gulped down more tears.

Angus Force had been absent all day on doctor’s orders. Apparently his internal bleeding had gotten worse, and he’d had to visit the hospital late the night before. Now he was cranky and at home, according to Nari. Brigid felt a little guilty that she was happy not to face him yet.

Her phone dinged, and she lunged for it on the desk, lifting it. “Raider? Hello?”

“Helloooo, Irish Rose,” Raider drawled, his voice low and slurred.

She sat down, her entire body stiffening. “Raider? You okay?”

“You know what I like? You.” He snorted out a laugh. “Usually. I mean, not right now, because you lied. But you make the cutest noises when you sleep. I hope we can sleep together again.”

She looked around the vacant room. “What’s happening right now?”

“Hey—” There was a scuffle and Raider’s swearing dimmed in volume.

“Brigid? It’s Wolfe.”

Relief filled her so quickly she almost slid off the chair to the hard floor. “Thank goodness. What’s going on?” Her mind kicked back into gear. “Is he drunk?”

“Um, yeah. Completely snockered,” Wolfe affirmed, amusement lightening his usually gritty tone. “He and Eddie tied one on, bonding all afternoon. From what he spilled on his shirt, it’s a combination of tequila, Irish whiskey, and I’m guessing peppermint schnapps.”

Brigid winced. “Ugh. That’s a fatal combination.”