Page 14 of At Their Mercy: Part I

“They’re not answerin’ the damn phone,” Reese muttered. “I get that Danny’s still at work, but Em should be home.”

“Or he’s as good at retirement as Quinn,” River responded.

Reese snorted and lowered me on the couch, and he was quick to sit down next to me. “I guess it wouldn’t surprise me if he stayed on as a consultant. Can you fuckin’ imagine?” He pulled my legs over his lap. “Glue yourself to me, baby. I’ve been deprived for hours.”

He was too cute. I could point out I’d been gone for less than two hours, but I didn’t. I’d missed him too.

River opted to sit down on the coffee table, right in front of us. “Try Em’s cell?”

“I did.” Reese opened his phone and went to his recent calls. He didn’t angle the screen away from me, so I saw the contacts. Payne Home, Payne Cell, Rose Cell, Rose Office, Payne Towers—whatever that meant. “I’ll try Danny’s office again.”

I scrunched my nose. “Why are you stalking Emerson and Danny, if I may ask?”

Surely, fourteen calls within a half hour was considered stalking.

“You’re gonna meet them,” Reese replied. “Nobody has more stories about River and me than Emerson. Danny’s a close second. We’ll invite them over—or head over to wherever they are—get them lit, and they’ll tell you everythin’ and more.”

I smirked, half giddy at the prospect and half amused by them taking things so far. It wasn’t necessary.

Reese even put the call on speaker, but nobody answered.

He sighed. “Fuck it. I’ll just call the agency.”

“What’s the rush?” I felt the need to ask. “Let the man get off work.”

He merely shook his head.

Romeo and Lima wandered over after—or so I presumed since they were dripping water all over the floor—having a drink in the kitchen. I should probably refill their bowls soon.

The next call was put on speaker too.

This time, someone answered, and they answered fast. “Hillcroft dispatch, state your operator number and name.”

“Three-one-four-six-zero-three, this is Operator Tenley—I need to talk to Operator Rose ASAP,” Reese replied.

Holy shit. That was seriously fucking hot.

Operator Tenley.

My men had been operators.

“Zero-three,” the dispatch lady muttered. “The shit Tenley. You’re fucking retired, man.”

My eyebrows flew up. River’s eyes flashed with amusement, and Reese groaned and scrubbed a hand over his face.

“Joyce,” he said with so much disdain and reluctance that I could not get any more confused. Who was Joyce? “Fuck my life.”

River cleared his throat and leaned forward. “Two-four Operator Tenley here too. How are you, hon?”

“River! Oh, it’s so good to hear your voice, sugar. I miss you. What can I do for you?”

Hot damn, talk about a change in her tone. She clearly loved one of the brothers, and the other one was Reese, who shook his head.

River chuckled. “You’d be doing me a big favor if you could get me Danny’s work phone.”

“Say no more,” Joyce answered. “I’ll patch you through.”

The call disconnected—or was transferred, rather.