Chapter 9
Maggie was sitting beside Reece on the beach when she finally admitted how scared she was about the future.
She didn’t want to go back to Darkwater because they’d be separated, but she knew that wasn’t a viable reason to not go back to work.
She was an adult. And yeah, they'd developed a close relationship, but there was still some distance between them.
Then there was the issues she’d found prior to being sent on mandatory down time.
The digging she wanted to do and the fixes that needed to be made were daunting but absolutely needed.
She also wanted to know about the men who'd cornered her. Was it because of the problems she'd found … She knew going forward that searching for answers and deleting the access someone had built in her system could cause more problems, especially if the person who’d constructed the access was inside Darkwater, which she didn’t believe that for a second …
But not going forward? The ramifications of that choice echoed endlessly.
The sand was cool beneath her legs, the ocean dark and endless in front of them. Reece sat close, knees drawn up, arms resting loosely across them. She leaned into him, and he leaned over and kissed the top of her head.
"I go back to work soon," Maggie said quietly.
Reece didn't look at her. "I know."
"I'm kind of afraid," she admitted.
That made him turn. "Of what?"
She stared at the water. "Of looking again. And of not looking."
He let that sit, prompting her to continue.
"If I keep digging," she said, "I don't know what I'll find. Or who’ll notice.
But if I don't …" Her voice faltered. "Then I know something's wrong, and I'm choosing to ignore it.
That kind of choice would eat me alive." She sighed heavily, then glanced at him, searching his face. "I trust you. What should I do?"
His expression softened, something deep and steady in his eyes. "You don't have to decide everything now."
"No, I do," she said. "Because once I'm back, I can't unsee it. I can't unknow it. I have five days until I get on that helicopter and go out to the platform. I have to know what I'm going to do."
Reece shifted slightly closer, not touching her but anchoring her all the same. "What if I told you I may have a way to help?"
That did something to her chest she didn't have words for. Maggie looked back out at the water, listening to the waves, feeling the month settle into memory already. Florida. The rides. The lakes. The boats. The laughter.
"I can't. I can't walk away," she said. "Please don't ask me to do that."
Reece nodded once. "I would never ask you to walk away from something you feel you need to do. We'll go forward. Together."
"How?"
The word barely left her lips before the surf stole it away. Maggie felt Reece's fingers tighten around hers instead of hearing an answer. The warmth of his hand grounded her, bound her to the moment while the ocean rolled endlessly in front of them.
He wasn't rushing this. She realized that immediately. And some quiet part of her understood why.
"I'm not asking you to stop," he said at last. "I'm asking you to be careful in a way that makes you a smaller target."
She turned her head toward him, searching his face in the dim light. The fear was still there, sitting heavy in her chest, but beneath it was resolve. She wasn't asking him to save her. She was asking him to stand with her.
"I wouldn't accept that," she said quietly. “Stopping, I mean. What do you mean about making myself a smaller target?”
"I know you wouldn’t," Reece replied. "That's why I think this solution will work."
He shifted, angling his body toward her without breaking contact, still close, still steady. Maggie felt the deliberateness of it, the care. Whatever he was about to say, it wasn't improvised.
"My father runs Guardian Security," he said.
The words landed softly but carried weight. She stilled. Reece had mentioned his father worked as an executive, but this was different. Bigger. She recalibrated quickly. "You've said he works in corporate security."
"He does," Reece said. "At the top of Guardian."
Maggie exhaled slowly. Not shock. Adjustment. "Okay."
"I didn't tell you because it wasn't relevant," he continued. "Until now."
She nodded once, permitting him to continue.
"Guardian's been watching Darkwater from a distance," Reece said.
"Not because they wanted any of its secrets or its clients.
We're big enough and busy enough. Because something about it didn't sit right with people who notice that type of thing.
The organization came up too fast, it's too polished and too …
perfect. And then you started asking questions.
Our people agree with you. There's something not adding up with Darkwater. "
Her stomach tightened. "So, I lit myself up."
"Yes and no," Reece said immediately. "You did your job, and we noticed."
His thumb brushed gently against her knuckles as he gave reassurance without condescension. "Guardian can't move openly. Not yet. Without proof, it would look like a power grab. And that's the one thing it can't be."
"Even if you're right," Maggie said.
"Especially if we're right," he replied. "Which is why Guardian came up with another way."
"Who, your dad?" she asked, filing the name away.
"Yes, in conjunction with a systems genius and me," Reece said. "The specialist is the kind of guy who sees around corners. He's been shadowing your work quietly, making sure you weren't exposed before you were ready."
Her brow furrowed. "You knew?"
"No," Reece said. "I didn't. I learned all of this last night. I was sitting here wondering how I would broach the subject with you."
She studied his face, weighing honesty against timing. Then nodded. "Okay. Go on."
"The plan is simple," Reece said. "I go in first."
"First, where?"
"Onto the platform," he said. "Undercover. No Guardian affiliation. No connection to you."
Her fingers tightened in his. "As what?"
"An operational resilience consultant," Reece said.
"A third-party selection and a civilian.
Darkwater's contracts with other organizations demand the position be filled, and they're in the process of finalizing the candidates with a third-party company that hires for major corporations. I’d be someone brought in to enhance continuity programs, mitigate technology risk challenges, draft contracts, complete penetration testing once a year, bring in consultants for cybersecurity if it becomes an issue, and provide independent assurance to standing and potential clients of asset delivery. "
The implications unfolded rapidly in her mind. "Wow. That would put you … everywhere," she said slowly.
"Close enough," Reece replied. "Without raising flags."
"And you think no one will recognize you?"
"No," he said. "Guardian has scrubbed everything. There are no photos of me and you from this month. None at the parks, the boats, or street shots. If anyone on the platform runs me, they get a boring résumé and a clean trail. Unless, of course, the two asshats that approached you are on the rig?"
“I’d know if they were at Darkwater.” She shivered. “But yeah, they will run you.” Another chill slid down her spine. "That's … unsettling. That we were wiped from everything."
"It's meant to be unsettling," Reece said. "For them. Not for you."
She turned back toward the water, letting the information settle. He didn't rush her. Silence stretched, and it wasn't awkward or pressured. Just space to think.
"And me?" she asked finally. "What do I do?"
"You keep doing exactly what you've been doing," Reece said. "You look. You document. You prove what you already know is there and maybe check other programs, too. I don't touch your work. I don't interfere. I don't decide anything for you."
She glanced back at him. "Then why are you there?"
"Truthfully? To watch the environment," he said. "To notice what shifts when you move closer. To make sure you're not the only one paying attention and to watch those who are watching you."
Her voice dropped. "I don't want to be managed. I know my job."
Reece met her gaze without flinching. "I'm not managing you. I'm backing you up."
Something inside her paused at that. She searched his face for control. For ego. For any hint that this came with strings. But she found none.
"You'd really let me do this," she said.
"Yes."
"And if I tell you to back off?"
"I'll listen," Reece said. "I might argue, but I'll listen."
Her thumb traced lightly over his knuckles, grounding herself in the contact. "You're already committed."
"Yes."
"Even if I say no."
"Yes," he said again, quieter. "Because someone already noticed you. This just changes who sees what next. Our specialist will work with you to make sure of that."
"He's already contacted me. Twice. Once to tell me I'm on the right path and the next time to tell me to stop digging into your identity." Maggie closed her eyes briefly, breathing in the night air, the steady rhythm of the waves. The fear hadn't vanished, but the isolation had.
"He's the best. I don't doubt that."
"Then why doesn't he just go in and get what he needs?" She looked up at him. "Why am I needed?"
"Appearances, for one. I told you, this can’t look like a power grab on Guardian’s part.
It isn’t, but the rest of the world needs to understand that you found the breaches in the programs, not us.
And the fact that you found it makes it yours.
We just want to make sure no one gets in your way as you track and document.
When you're ready with the evidence, we'll be ready to support you.
" He lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles.
"I want to ensure no one gets crazy and decides to physically harm you to get you to stop. "
"Holy hay bales!" She stiffened. "Why would you say that? Do you think someone would do that?"
"I don't know what the person hiding this would do," he said. "I'm going to make sure I'm there to prevent anything from going wrong."
A full-body shiver went through her. Sure, her mind had led her to the worst-case scenarios, but those were unreasonable.
Or so she’d been telling herself. She leaned against him.
“If someone is taking the information we’ve gathered, they could sell it to …
anyone. The value of that information to bad actors or black hat operators … ”
“Would be priceless.”
“Which means if they suspect me of finding out about their gates and access to the information, they’d want me gone.”
“We won’t let that happen.” He put his arm around her and pulled her into him. “This is one of the things we do, babe. Watch over those who need that backup.”
She absorbed his words and let them settle the fear that was swirling. "When would you need to leave?" she asked.
"Soon," Reece said. "Before you go back."
She nodded. "If this goes wrong …"
"I tell you," he said immediately. "No secrets that affect you. Ever."
She looked at him then, really looked at him, and felt something ease. Not the danger, but the loneliness of carrying it alone. It had dissipated, and that horrible knot in her stomach was loosening.
"Okay," she said. The one word was hard to say because it carried so much weight.
Reece shifted closer, their connection unmistakable. Maggie leaned into him, trusting the space they shared. "Then we're really doing this," she said.
"Yes," Reece replied.
"Reece?"
He hummed a response.
She swallowed hard. "Don't go to your hotel tonight. Stay with me."
He pulled back and took her chin in his fingers, making her look at him. "You don't need to do this. We can wait."
She smiled. "I'm tired of waiting for you to make the first move."
His eyes popped open, and he laughed, "I was being considerate."
She smiled widely. "You were being blind. I gave you all the signals."
"You did?" He smiled down at her. "You'll have to teach me what they were."
"Nope. Then you might use that knowledge with another lady."
"Never." He lowered his lips to hers. "Only with you."