CYAN
Cassian didn't even look up. "No."
"I haven't even said anything yet—"
"Whatever it is, the answer is no."
"The warehouse!" I burst out, the words tumbling over each other. "The Vincenti operation. The lieutenant. You went without me, Cassie! You went and did a full-scale raid on a distribution hub, captured a high-level target, and sent him back broken… and you didn't call me?"
"You were injured—"
"Yes but—" I was halfway off my chair now, hovering over the counter, my body naturally migrating into his personal space. I was genuinely offended. Deeply, spiritually offended.
"I was sitting at the beach house for weeks," I practically wailed. "Waiting for the signal! And you go and have all the fun without me? Do you have any idea how boring it is at the beach house when there's no one to punch?"
Cassian's hand moved faster than I could track. His palm landed over my mouth, firm and cool, effectively silencing the rest of my tirade.
