Safe at Last (Slow Burn #3)

Sterling and his assistant stood to the side, also staring at Zack. Sterling wore a slight frown, his eyes intently studying Zack’s reaction.

“What artist is the exhibit for?” Zack asked casually.

But there was no disguising the betraying tremor and hoarseness to his voice, despite his best effort to contain his reaction.

“The artist isn’t what matters,” Sterling said neutrally. “The security in no way involves the artist. It involves the art.”

Eliza’s head snapped up, her eyes flashing fire. “Wait a minute. You want to hire a security firm for the exhibit, but you don’t give a fuck about the actual artist?”

Zack saw red, his thoughts so jumbled and chaotic he couldn’t even give voice to the thousand what-the-fucks going through his mind.

“The artist prefers anonymity,” Sterling said in a biting tone. “It’s not even decided as to whether the artist will attend. The exhibit isn’t about the artist, but rather the art.”

Eliza snorted. “And this helps us do our job how?”

“Who is she?” Zack asked quietly.

Sterling immediately stiffened, his entire stance becoming both wary and menacing.

“I don’t recall specifying the artist’s gender.”

At the same time Cheryl quickly turned the painting around, obscuring it from view with her body.

“The initials A.G. Do they stand for ‘Anna-Grace’?” Zack asked hoarsely, no longer even attempting to disguise the demand in his voice.

“I specifically said the artist in question prefers anonymity,” Sterling said, his jaw tight.

Frustration simmered in Zack. He was perilously close to losing his shit right here and now. And it was not going to be a pretty sight. For twelve fucking years—more than a third of his life—he’d worried and agonized over Gracie’s fate and now this fuckhead was playing goddamn mind games when Zack was on the cusp of the impossible?

Oh hell no. That untouchable “I’m wealthy and powerful” act might work on others, but not on Zack. He worked for extremely wealthy but down-to-earth people. He himself was wealthy and he didn’t act like an arrogant douche bag, smug and confident that his words and actions were law. Or above the law.

“Just answer the question,” Zack said through a tightly clenched jaw. “The initials. A.G. Do they stand for ‘Anna-Grace’?” His tone was frigid, suggesting without actually stating that he wouldn’t ask again.

At that Sterling’s expression became absolutely glacial. Frost formed in his gaze. His eyes hardened, his jaw ticking as he continued to size Zack up. For whatever reason, as soon as Zack had said her name, Sterling had gotten pissed, where before he’d just been a smug, arrogant asshole. Anger vibrated from him in waves. His eyes became shuttered, masking any hint or clue as to what he was thinking. Zack wanted to put his fist right through the bastard’s jaw.

The sudden tension between the two men was palpable. Eliza threw Dane an uneasy glance and took another step closer to Zack’s side, almost as if she knew the shit was about to hit the fan.

“We’re done here,” Sterling said in a rigid tone. “I no longer require your services. I’m more than happy to pay a consult fee if you leave your billing information with my assistant on your way out.”

His response enraged Zack and Eliza quickly stepped between the two men, turning her back to Sterling and placing her hand on Zack’s chest.

“Let’s go, Zack,” she said in a low voice. “This asshole’s taken up enough of our time.” She tossed a pissed-off look over her shoulder at Sterling and said in a tone as icy as his had been, “And you can bet you’ll get that bill before we leave.”

“Lizzie,” Dane said, carefully enunciating each word so she got the message, “get the fuck away from him.”

The threat in Dane’s tone, and his body language, was clearly evident. Eliza turned but pulled Zack with her, trying to herd him toward the door.

“Eliza, stop,” Zack said quietly, not wanting to vent his seething emotions on the other woman. But he planted his feet all the same, making it impossible for her to budge his much larger frame. “This is important. The most important thing in my goddamn life. I can’t leave here. Not until I get the info I’m looking for. I’ll kick the motherfucker’s ass if it gets me the intel I want—that I need.”

“Sir, should I call the police?” Cheryl inquired anxiously of Sterling.

Before Zack could follow up and make another demand, the glass entryway swung open and a woman hurried through, her gaze immediately focused on Sterling and his assistant.

As she took in the other DSS members, her face reddened in embarrassment. Several things happened simultaneously. Wade rushed toward her and she hastily babbled an apology for interrupting.

Zack went completely still, not so much a single breath escaping his lungs as he drank in the sight before him. His throat closed in and he couldn’t speak. Couldn’t think. All he could do was stare.