Chapter 18 #2
Riley let him examine her for cuts and bruises, his weathered hands surprisingly gentle as he checked her pupils and asked about pain.
Around them, the other workers were offering help or dealing with the aftermath.
People were securing the remaining drums, calling for the incident response team to ensure the barrels weren’t leaking.
Riley would have to investigate every detail of what had gone wrong.
But she couldn’t think about that right now.
Her mind could barely grasp what had just happened. Good, God. She could have been killed.
It was Mal who voiced what they were all thinking: "Shit, Riley. If you hadn't moved when you did …"
He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't need to. They all knew what three hundred pounds of steel would have done to human bone and flesh.
It was an accident. It had to be.
Equipment failed. Hydraulics gave out. Restraints wore down and snapped at the worst possible moment. Incidents occurred in industrial facilities and had happened since humans first learned to use tools to perform tasks too dangerous for bare hands.
Except …
As Riley finally found the strength to stand straight without leaning against the hot barrels, she brushed the concrete dust from her shirt.
Her gaze cut automatically toward the edge of the yard.
Toward the shadow of the warehouse where she'd seen Mauro Delgado deep in conversation just minutes before her world had nearly ended.
He was still there.
Still watching.
But now, instead of the casual observation she'd grown accustomed to, there was something different in his gaze. Something that looked almost like disappointment.
That evening, the sun hung low and orange beyond the small restaurant.
Tallon had picked her up at her office, but she didn’t want to be anywhere near the mining operation.
Riley sat on the edge of her seat, her hands still trembling faintly as she recounted the incident for the third time, each retelling making it feel both more real and more surreal.
"It could have been nothing," she said, though the words felt like lies even as they left her mouth. She stood abruptly, needing movement, needing to burn off the nervous energy that had been building all day. The space between their table and the edge of the outside patio wasn’t wide enough for pacing, but she made it work, three steps each direction. She’d felt like a caged animal all day, so the small area seemed appropriate.
"Equipment fails all the time in a facility that size. Hydraulics blow out, restraints wear down, and operators make mistakes. The forklift was due for its routine maintenance next week. I checked. Maybe the timing was just …" She gestured helplessly, searching for the right word.
"Convenient?" Talon suggested, his voice carefully neutral.
Riley stopped pacing to look at him. Though he sat perfectly still in his chair at the table, there was a coiled tension in his posture that reminded her of a snake preparing to strike.
His dark eyes tracked her every movement.
With no one else on the patio, she felt comfortable talking about the morning’s events.
"Mauro was there. Again. Talon, every time I look up, he's within thirty feet. Every. Single. Time. And today …" She swallowed hard, the memory hitting her again with physical force. "If I hadn't moved when I did, if my reflexes had been a split second slower—"
"You'd have been crushed," he finished. Anger filled his voice.
The simple words hung in the air between them like a death sentence. Riley felt her legs go weak again and sank back onto the chair, the old thing creaking under her weight.
"The drum weighed three hundred pounds," she whispered. "The concrete pad cracked when it hit. If it had landed on me …"
"There wouldn't have been enough left to identify," Talon said with brutal honesty. "Industrial accidents like that don't leave survivors. They leave stains."
Riley nodded, wrapping her arms around herself as if she could physically hold the pieces of her composure together.
"I keep telling myself it was random. That I'm reading malice into mechanical failure.
But then I think about those shipping manifests, about my father's phone call, about the way Mauro watches me, and … "
"And you realize that people who skim rare minerals don't usually stop at fraud when someone gets too close to the truth," Talon finished.
The patio fell silent except for the distant sound of evening diners, traffic past the landscaped buffer, and music playing over the outside speakers.
It should have been intimate, but tonight, there wasn’t room in her thoughts for intimacy.
She rubbed her arms, cold in the lingering heat of the day.
“I almost wish I were back in an office at corporate.” She laughed bitterly.
“Almost. But then there wouldn’t be you or us.
And I’m not willing to give that up.” God, how life had changed since the day she stepped foot on that ship.
Back before she’d fought to live again. Back before Talon.
She shook her head. She’d endure everything all over again if it meant she and Talon were in the same place.
Destiny isn’t an easy road, but it brought me the man of my dreams.
Talon stood suddenly, the movement sharp and decisive. When he turned to face her, something had changed in his expression. The careful neutrality was gone, replaced by something harder and infinitely more dangerous.
"Riley," he said quietly, "don’t go near the industrial areas unless you absolutely have to. And if you do have to go, don't go alone. Take Mal with you or one of the other safety officers. Someone to witness what’s happening."
Something in his tone made her stop breathing. Not just concern—she'd heard concern from him before. This was different. This was the voice of a man making tactical decisions.
"What are you going to do?" she asked, though part of her already knew she didn't want the answer.
Talon looked at her for a long moment, his intense eyes unreadable.
Then he shook his head slowly. "Nothing you need to worry about." Walking over to her, he pulled her into his arms. “Your only concern is taking care of yourself. I’ll handle everything else. Everything.” He bent down and kissed her gently. “You’re my life. I need you to promise me you’ll be careful. ”
The dismissal was gentle but absolute. Riley opened her mouth to argue, to demand he tell her what he was planning, but something in his posture warned her off.
This wasn't a discussion. But she could promise him she’d be careful.
She nodded and lifted on her toes. He lowered, and the kiss was so sweet and gentle that she could have cried from the depth of feeling.