Riley’s head buzzed with everything Storm had delivered.
His first instinct was to call her a liar. His next was to tell her to go to hell and leave her here to figure it out for herself.
But the deepest part of him, the part his father ingrained in him, couldn’t stop his gut from aching and his mind from racing. Could it be true?
Get the facts, Jackson. Gather them all together, study them, analyze it until there’s nothing left to it, and then make your conclusion about it. His father’s advice came back to him.
With his jaw clenched, he hauled out his gear from the back of the truck cab and then laid it in the bed of the truck, having yanked down the tailgate first.
He set up a makeshift workspace, pulling his laptop up. He shifted through his files and up popped the one he was looking for. He scrolled through the mug shots and back again.
Only when he was satisfied that his temper was under wraps and his mind focused on what he had to do did he face Storm.
Her eyes met his without flinching. A slice of admiration shot through Riley.
Tough. Strong. Hot as hell.
That last one bothered him. He still wanted her.
He’d try to keep the flames extinguished until he got the job done; otherwise, if he became distracted by her, there was no telling what kind of trouble they’d end up in.
“Take off your shirt.” He nodded to the oversized one he’d let her wear on the drive here.
“What’s your game, Riley?” Her eyes flicked with interest. Or was it desire?
Heat pooled in him. Christ, not even a minute since I called a stop to it and she’s getting to me. He grabbed up the smaller vest on the tailgate and held it out to her. “Bulletproof vest. Where we’re going, you’re going to need one.”
She came to him, unknotting the gathered material she’d cinched at her waist and then shrugged out of it.
Why did she have to be so damn sexy? Naturally sexy?
When he went to put it on her over her black tank top, she stiffened. He gritted his teeth and helped her into it, tightening it around her tiny frame.
Riley was close, so close, that he could hear the catch in her breath and feel the heat of her.
“You don’t fight fair, Storm Weatherly,” he said softly.
She jerked her gaze up to meet his. Liquid blue eyes nearly melted him. “Me? You’re dangerous, Jackson Riley.”
“You don’t know the half of it, honey.”
When Riley stepped back, she felt as if she’d been entrapped and now let loose. She could breathe again. So why did she miss him?
Nodding to the screen, he said, “I want you to go through those shots and tell me if you see the kidnapper in any of them.”
While she huddled over the screen, blocking out the last dying rays of sunlight, Storm grew highly aware of him beside her. He took off his shirt, slipped on the bulletproof vest and adjusted it, and then tugged on his shirt again.
All her senses were on high alert. Her body hummed with need. God, why him? Why did it have to happen to her at all? She didn’t want it or need it.
Something caught her attention, yanking her mind back to the task. She scrolled back a few shots, and then slowly forward. Her blood boiled. “That’s the bastard.”
“Sure?”
“He shaved his head since, gained a few more pounds, but it’s him.”
“Anything else?”
She met his intense stare. “Tattoo.”
“Where? What does it look like?”
“Upper arm. Left. Added on to an old one. I love Mom with a heart, old one, faded and cheap. I love and a picture of a baby, newer, cost more by the professional look of it.”
Riley leaned over her and tapped on the screen, making it larger and scrolled down. “Anything like this?”
A close-up of the guy’s left arm appeared. “That’s it. The old tattoo.”
He nodded. “Mug shot five years ago.”
“Good. Now we can track him down, right?”
“I know where he lives.”
“Back in Texas? Isn’t that where this mug shot was taken?”
“These are my father’s personal files. He had him in his radar for a while.”
“He’s that badass?” Somehow she didn’t think of the kidnapper like that. More of a jackass following directions.
“No. But the people he works for are. Cold-blooded killers.”
Storm gulped hard. “Echo? Murph?”
“If they have them, you better believe they’ll kill them.”