Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 79052 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79052 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
“He’s escalating, Damien. He’s angry. When unstable people get angry, get denied the one thing they want, they get desperate—which makes him more dangerous.”
“I’m hoping he gets sloppy.”
“So he’s slipped under the radar on the website, even with the extra backups they do,” he said, thinking aloud. “Have you thought of an inside job?”
“Yes. I was going to contact Jeff today and ask for a list of employees. Or I’ll get Egan to do it maybe,” I replied. “I seemed to make him nervous.”
“How?”
“I don’t know. Egan noticed how tense he was around me. I put him on edge. He’s, ah, already really introverted, and I was rather insistent.”
“Have you checked him out?”
“Quickly. He’s intensely private and stays out of the limelight. Opened the company four years ago. No complaints aside from some disgruntled people who didn’t find their connection, but the same as on any site. He’s late forties, heavyset, married. Clean record. Not a suspect at all.”
“Okay. Get Egan to request it. If he refuses…” He trailed off.
“We’ll hack in.”
“You might have to. He wants to help, but handing over his employee list might not sit well. I’ll do a little digging here too. None of our contacts matched up the sketch with a known entity. Their searches got no hits on the name. I think you’re right in assuming it’s fake.” He was quiet for a moment. “Proceed carefully. Don’t make him angry again.”
I told him about Raven’s idea for an argument. He hummed in agreement. “Not a bad idea. Might flush him out. With the right precautions, you might nab him and keep her safe.” He paused. “She’s brave, your lady.”
“She is.”
“And you really care about her.” It was a statement, not a question.
“She is it for me, Julian. I can’t imagine life without her now.”
He chuckled. “And another one bites the dust.”
“Big-time.”
“All right. Let me see what I can do. I have a couple more calls I can make.”
“Thanks.”
I hung up and walked to the windows, staring down on the street.
“Where are you, asshole?” I muttered.
I needed to find him.
Soon.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Raven
Hiding my anxiety, I smiled at Damien. “It’s all pretend, right?”
He nodded, the tension around his eyes obvious. Neither of us had slept much the night before, and this morning, we had both been quiet. Damien had made love to me in the middle of the night, his movements slow and gentle, his voice a low hum in the dark. I had lain in his arms after, trying to hold back my tears, feeling vulnerable and silly.
It was just a pretend fight. Egan was already in my apartment, having swept it for bugs. Damien had decided, during our fight, he would reach for the satchel and accidentally tear off the bunny. If Andy was watching, he’d think it was an accident. But not being able to track or hear me might spur him to follow me to the apartment. Meanwhile, Damien was going to disable the bugs Andy had planted and try tracing the manufacturer to find out who they were sold to if he could.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked.
“Yes. If it brings him to us, then yes.”
He blew out a breath, dragged me into his arms, and kissed me. Hard. His tongue, his touch, everything about it was possessive, claiming. Perfect.
He drew back, cupping my face. “Just for show.”
I shook off Damien’s hand. “You’re holding me too tight.”
“Stop whining.”
“Stop breathing down my neck. You’re suffocating me,” I hissed.
“Forgive me for trying to watch out for you,” he snapped.
I shook my head. “Did you hear anything I said to you last night, Damien? I’m tired of this!”
“You’re tired of this? You’re not the one having rocks thrown at her car or trying to help someone who keeps insisting they can look after themselves.” He sneered at me. “We both know you do a shit job at it.”
“I managed quite well before I met you.”
“Does the name Andy ring a bell?” he spat. “Jesus, you’re insufferable at times. You act like a spoiled brat.”
I turned and faced him in the park. We were close to the road and visible, yet there were lots of trees around us. Not knowing if we were being watched, listened to, or both, we made sure to keep our voices low, not wanting to attract unwanted attention. The last thing we needed was someone to come over and interrupt us.
“I act like a spoiled brat?” I repeated. “I’m living in reality. You’re running around acting like you’re James Bond. You run a security firm, Damien. Ex-cops who are too old to do much good but drink coffee, and mall security guards high on their own power. You’re not that big a deal. And I think you’re making the situation worse.”
His eyebrows shot up at my remark. I could tell he was trying to stay in the moment and not laugh at my description of Elite. We both knew it was anything but mall security guards.