Chapter 3
Reece King noticed trouble the way other people noticed the weather.
What he noticed today wasn’t the loud and obvious kind of trouble. No, it was the kind that slipped in quietly and tried to pass as nothing.
He was walking the marina strip because it gave him room to breathe.
The wooden planks were firm under his feet, worn smooth by years of foot traffic.
Tourists drifted past in loose clusters, sunburned and smiling, their voices rising and falling in easy conversation.
A vendor called out prices for bottled water.
The air smelled of salt, boat fuel, and sunscreen.
Waves slapped against hulls and pilings in a rhythm that never stopped.
The sound of the ocean was a steady backdrop to another fall day in Florida.
His trip to Florida was supposed to be his exhale after a year of wandering.
A year of discipline without direction. A year of staring down a question he couldn't quite name.
He was done drifting. He could feel it in his bones with a certainty that settled deep.
His body still knew exactly what it was built for.
He was probably in better shape than he'd ever been. It was time to go back to work.
He adjusted the bill of his cap, the fabric rough against his palm, and let his gaze roam without looking like he was looking.
That was when his instincts snapped hard.
A woman stood near the edge of the walkway, frozen in place, her back half-turned toward the street, while two men boxed her in.
One stood too close in front of her, crowding her space, invading the bubble most people kept sacred.
The other had positioned himself just behind her right shoulder, close enough to block her retreat.
Their positioning was deliberate and menacing.
The woman's curly blonde hair was pulled into a messy bun, loose strands escaping at her temples and catching the breeze. She wore a red t-shirt with a white block N and had a canvas bag slung across her body. A tablet was clutched tight to her chest, her fingers white where they gripped the edges.
Her face was pale, and her eyes were gray and wide in a way that told Reece she wasn't being dramatic. She was afraid.
The man in front of her smiled without warmth, and Reece was close enough now to hear his words. "We just want to talk to you. We heard you like computers. Don’t be a bitch about it."
"I said no." Her voice was controlled, but the tension underneath it was unmistakable, a tightness that made the words sharp. "Please move."
The man behind her chuckled, the sound low and ugly. "No need to get pissy."
Reece didn't speed up. Speed drew attention. Speed made people look. Instead, he closed the distance with calm purpose, his sneakers silent on the weathered boards.
The man in front lifted a hand as if trying to soothe her. "Come on, sweetheart. You're making this harder than it needs to be."
Those words tightened something in Reece's chest, a flash of heat that he kept locked down. He had a long history with women who'd been treated badly. He'd never let anyone mistreat a woman in his presence as long as he lived.
He stepped into the pocket of space beside her, close enough that his shoulder nearly brushed hers, close enough to feel the warmth radiating off her body. But he wasn't crowding. He was shielding her.
"Back up," Reece said evenly.
Both men startled for a second.
The closer one looked Reece over, eyes scanning from cap to shoes, then up again. He saw the size. The posture. The stillness of someone who was never off balance. Reece could smell cologne on him, something cheap and overpowering.
"What's this?" the man snapped. "You her boyfriend?"
"No," Reece said.
He kept his eyes on the men, but he felt the woman stiffen beside him, felt her breath hitch, heard the small catch in her throat. Then she reached out and clutched the back of his t-shirt, almost begging him not to leave. As if he'd entertain the thought.
"She said no," Reece continued. "That’s enough."
The second man shifted behind her, testing the space. Reece tracked the movement without turning his head and angled his body a fraction, closing that lane without advertising it. The heat of the sun pressed down on his shoulders.
"Mind your business," the first man said.
Reece's voice stayed calm, flat, and final. "My business is keeping you from making a mistake you can't undo."
The man sneered. "You threatening me?"
He slowly shook his head a bit. "No. I'm warning you." Reece’s smile curled maliciously. He didn't want a fight, but he'd relish taking this asshole down.
Silence tightened. The oblivious crowd flowed around them, their chatter and laughter a strange contrast to the stillness between the four of them. A family passed, a child's voice bright and happy. Laughter drifted by, and normal life pressed in around the moment.
The first man glanced sideways, checking for witnesses, for backup, for advantage. His jaw worked, muscles twitching under his skin as he found none.
"Not worth it," the second man muttered, already stepping away. Reece could hear his footsteps retreating across the boards.
The first man hesitated, pride flaring in his eyes, then he forced a grin that didn’t reach his eyes. "Have a nice day."
He spun and melted into the crowd.
Reece waited. He watched gaps and reflections in the shop windows that lined the marina. His breathing stayed even, controlled, but his heart rate had kicked up a notch.
Only when he was satisfied they weren't circling back immediately did he turn to the woman beside him.
She still held his shirt and the tablet tight, knuckles white against the black case. Her breathing was shallow but controlled, her chest rising and falling in quick, measured movements.
"You okay?" Reece asked quietly.
She nodded too fast. "Yes. I mean, I am now." She let go of his t-shirt. "Sorry."
"I wasn't going to leave, and you weren't okay before," he said.
Her gaze flicked toward where the men disappeared, her pupils still dilated. "They just appeared out of nowhere, and they were asking questions."
"What kind of questions?"
She hesitated, weighing him. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips. "About my work, I think?"
Cold slid down Reece's spine.
"Have you seen them before?"
"No." Her voice dropped. "But they acted like they knew me. They called me by my name."
Reece scanned the crowd again, his eyes moving systematically across faces and body language. The men weren't immediately visible, but that meant nothing.
"Where are you headed?" he asked.
"My hotel. It's close." She gave him the name.
Reece nodded. "We're going there. Now."
"You don't have to—"
"Yes," he said firmly. "I do."
She opened her mouth, then closed it again and fell into step beside him. He could hear her breathing, still faster than normal.
"What's your name?" Reece asked as they started walking.
"Maggie. Maggie Brooks."
"Reece King."
They moved at an easy pace. Not hurried. Panic made people sloppy. He kept Maggie slightly to his right, guiding her subtly when the crowd pressed too close, his awareness stretched wide.
"What do you do, Maggie?" he asked, keeping his tone casual.
"Data," she said. "Programs. Systems. Architecture."
He smiled. She sounded just like his Aunt Jewell when she talked. Specific, pointed, and no fluff. So, she was a computer analyst. "That explains the interest," he murmured, nodding to himself.
She frowned. "It does?"
"People who hide in dark corners don't like people who see patterns. Do you work for law enforcement?"
"Ah, not really. I mean, kind of … but not like the cops on the street." She glanced at him. "Does it matter?"
They crossed a street, the asphalt hot under their feet, traffic briefly separating them from the flow behind. Reece used the moment to change angles, steering them left where he could see better.
"Are you in the area for work?" He stopped them at the corner of the street, waiting for a slow-moving golf cart to trundle by.
"Well, that's a kind of thing, too. I work offshore, and I'm on my mandatory month off."
"Mandatory?"
"Yes. I didn't want to take the break, but they insisted on it. Burnout prevention. Liability. All the usual reasons."
Reece's attention sharpened. "And this is your off month."
"Yes. I needed to clear my head, so I went for a walk and to maybe work on a few personal projects if I found a nice shady spot with a breeze. No business when I’m not in the office.
I tried to argue I could work remotely, but they shut that down because of the need for the separation of systems. Which makes sense, but I get frustrated when I have a problem I'm invested in fixing, and I can’t work on it. It eats at me."
That tightened his jaw, a muscle ticking near his ear.
"Who are the 'they' who made you take time off?"
"The executives. Darkwater."
Okay, now shit was starting to make sense. He'd seen the news and knew Darkwater was a new security company. What he didn't know was that they were headquartered offshore.
"And you didn't tell anyone you were coming to this hotel or what you were doing today?" Reece asked.
"No. I'm technically on vacation. I don't have to tell anyone about my movements."
Then the men were looking for her. The likelihood that she was a random target wasn’t possible, not if they’d used her name. His gut told him her job and the men were connected. He'd learned to trust his gut.
Reece adjusted their path again, angling them toward heavier foot traffic where bodies pressed closer and voices grew louder.
"I don't believe those men were random," he said quietly. "They had a reason for stopping you."
Maggie's steps faltered for half a beat. "Right? They knew my name. But that doesn't make sense."
"It does if someone inside your organization wanted eyes on you or to threaten you," Reece replied.