Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Xander was out of the Rover before Wilson was able to put it in park.
He ate up the sidewalk in his rush to get to her, taking in her bright-blue eyes that were wide with both worry and relief.
Reaching her, he enveloped her in his arms and let out a breath when she sank into him.
A shiver tore through her as she exhaled, and a protectiveness stirred in him and clutched at his gut.
No one was going to hurt his woman. Not on his watch.
He kept his arms around her as he pulled slightly away. “Hanging in there?”
She nodded, but her eyes turned glassy. No. Hell, no. Cupping her face in his hands, he brought his lips to hers, unsure if he was reassuring her or himself. “We’ll see what this is together, okay?”
She nodded again, buried her face in his chest, and hugged him tightly.
A throat cleared, and he glanced at Wilson who stood a few feet away from them with his hands tucked into the pockets of his dark-gray tactical pants.
Despite the worry for the woman in his arms, Xander couldn’t help but grin.
His friend looked damn uncomfortable, and it was fucking hilarious.
Nothing fazed Wilson. Or so he’d thought.
Before Xander could let some smart-ass comment fly, Wilson rolled his eyes and scratched the tip of his nose with his middle finger.
Smothering a chuckle, Xander released Freya but kept her tucked against his side. “This is Wilson. Wilson, Freya.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” she said, extending her hand.
Wilson stepped toward her, and when he shook her hand, his friend’s hand engulfed hers.
He and Wilson were roughly the same height, and while Xander prided himself on staying in excellent physical condition, Wilson took it to the next level.
His friend was a damn beast. He’d never been able to figure out how the man had stayed so stealthy when they were on ops.
Not that he was complaining, because he was grateful to have Wilson watching his six.
On top of the man’s operative skills, Wilson probably knew him better than he knew himself.
The moment Xander had realized something was wrong with Freya, all it had taken was one glance at his friend, and Wilson was in motion.
He’d made their excuses with Frazier, leaving their boss to handle the client meeting on his own.
No hesitation. No questions. Wilson had simply grabbed his keys and asked, “Where to?”
And Frazier, who knew him as well as Wilson did, had met his gaze and given him a nod.
“Shall we do this?” Wilson asked, angling his head toward her building entrance.
Taking Freya’s keys from her hand, Xander unlocked the main door and let Wilson in first. He ushered Freya in next, and after making sure the door was securely closed behind them, he followed her up the staircase.
At the landing, he scanned the hallway. No security cameras that he could see. On the left was the door to Knit Wits’ storage room. Directly across the hall was Freya’s apartment. With a large white mailing envelope on the ground propped against the door.
He turned to Wilson, and as if the guy had read his mind, he pulled a credit-card-sized bug detector from the side pocket of his pants.
“Let’s give him a minute,” he murmured to Freya, who stood stock-still beside him.
Wilson walked up and down each side of the hallway before pulling a pair of gloves from another pocket and donning them. “Clear,” he said, picking up the envelope.
“Thanks,” Xander said as he stepped away from Freya to unlock her door. After Wilson silently entered her apartment, Xander turned back to her. “Hang tight.”
“You think someone’s in my apartment?” Her eyes widened, and her voice was a panicked whisper.
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed. “No, I don’t.” That was the truth. Because if someone had gained access to her apartment, they would have left the envelope on the inside.
After a moment, Wilson’s body filled the doorframe, and he glanced at Freya. “Why don’t you look around to see if anything looks out of place.”
She glanced up at him, and he gave her a reassuring nod. “We’ll both be right beside you.”
Pride surged through him when she took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and followed Wilson inside.
After going through her small apartment, she said nothing was amiss. However, he could see her anxiety remained. He gestured to the envelope. “Want me to take a look first?”
She crossed her arms over her chest and nodded, clearly nervous.
Wilson held out another pair of gloves, and as he reached for them, Freya chuckled. “Geez, Wilson, what else do you have in those pants of yours?”
Two seconds of silence ticked by. Then her eyebrows shot up, and she slapped her hands over her reddening cheeks.
Xander bit back a snort—and thankfully, so did Wilson.
“Oh my God, that sounded awful,” she murmured. “That’s not what I meant. Can we please erase that?”
Chuckling, Wilson ran a hand over his jaw. “I’d totally make an inappropriate joke right now, but I think your man would try to beat the shit out of me if I did.”
“Not wrong, friend.”
Wilson caught his gaze, and amusement danced over his friend’s face. “Notice how the operative word there was try?”
He and Wilson were evenly matched, that was for sure. “Well,” he began with a shrug, “if all else failed, I’d sic Tash on you for me.”
Wilson held up his hands in mock innocence and gestured to the envelope.
He quickly pulled on the nitrite gloves, opened the top flap of the envelope, and peeked in. He shook the envelope to get a better look at the contents.
Fuck.
Lead filled his stomach. All the teasing and laughter from just seconds earlier was gone.
He met Freya’s gaze and frowned. “You were right to be worried. It’s more photos.” The way the light in her eyes dimmed tore at his gut. “I want you to pack a bag, baby. Come stay with me for the rest of the week.”
Her mouth fell open, and she sucked in a breath. “That bad?”
He’d only caught a glimpse of a couple of the photos, but that had been enough. He nodded. “Do you want to see them?” Please say no.
She worried her bottom lip. “I don’t know.”
He pulled her into his arms. How could he not? “Why don’t you pack first?” As much as he wanted to protect her, he wasn’t going to lie to her. “The photos aren’t good, but we can look at them later. I don’t want you staying here any longer than you need to, and most definitely not by yourself.”
She gulped and squeezed his waist before she let go. “Um, how much should I pack?”
“At least for the week. We can come back this weekend and get you more stuff if need be.”
“Holy crap, okay,” she said on an exhale and hustled to her bedroom.
Wilson was beside him in seconds. “What were the photos of?” he asked in a hushed voice.
“The two of us from yesterday.” With their faces scratched out.
Wilson’s jaw clenched, and his eyes narrowed. “What shit have you stepped into?”
Anger simmered in his blood. “I don’t know, but I’m gonna use every fucking resource we have to find out.”
Wilson slapped him on the shoulder. “I’ll round up the troops. Bean and Frazier, for sure. Want me to see if Alvarez is free to join?”
He nodded and handed Wilson the envelope. “Yeah. Tash and Esme too, if they’re available. Between all of us, we’ve got to be able to figure out what the hell is going on.”
Freya’s hands shook as she folded the final black dress, placed it in her small suitcase, and zipped it up. She’d packed enough work outfits for the rest of the week, along with toiletries and makeup in record time.
She pulled her suitcase off her bed, set it on the floor, and pulled up the handle. She paused and sat on the edge of her bed, her shoulders sagging.
She should have asked to see what was in the envelope, should have demanded to see the photos. After all, burying her head in the sand was never a good idea. But after seeing the look on Xander’s face, she’d chickened out. The anger radiating off him told her that whatever he’d seen had been bad.
It wasn’t like she wasn’t ever going to look at the photos, just . . . not quite yet. Because the fact he didn’t want her to stay alone at her apartment said a lot. The fact that she’d gone and packed her suitcase, no questions asked, also said a lot.
She trusted him. Implicitly.
Knowing him a short time or not, she trusted him.
With her safety, her body . . . her heart.
She simply needed to focus on the now, not the what-ifs.
Not only with them and whatever their intense relationship was, but with whatever danger seemed to be swirling around them.
If she didn’t focus on the now, she’d lose her mind.
“Hey.”
She glanced up at the now-familiar voice.
Xander stood in her doorway with empty hands, and she frowned.
“I gave the envelope to Wilson,” he said, answering her unasked question. “We’re calling in the crew to try and figure out what’s going on. If it’s okay with you, I’d like you to talk with my team about the photos you’ve gotten over the years.”
Her stomach twisted. She knew it was inevitable, but still . . .
She nodded toward her closet. “The blue box on the top shelf has the rest of the photos.”
As he crossed the room to her closet, she asked, “What were the photos in the envelope of?”
“Us. Yesterday.”
She gasped, and the blood drained from her face.
With the blue box tucked under his arm, he turned to her with narrowed eyes. A split second later, they widened. “Oh shit. No, baby. They were us from yesterday at the parade. Some by the toy store, not of us . . .”
Relief surged through her. She exhaled and slapped both hands over her racing heart. “Oh my God, Xander. I thought they were pictures from the hot tub.” Heat scalded her cheeks.
He sat beside her, placed the box on the bed, and took both her hands in his and squeezed. “The photos I saw were from the parade. I didn’t see all the pictures, but I highly doubt there were any of us from the hot tub.”
“How can you be sure?”
“I can’t. Nothing’s impossible, but one of the reasons I want you to stay with me is that my house—hell, all the houses on Frazier’s property—are secure. We have more cameras and security measures than Fort Knox.”
But didn’t that mean . . .
She frowned, and panic started to build anew. “So if you have all these cameras, what about—”
“I wiped the security footage of us last night, and I went into both the master file and backup and cleared it from there as well.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, and she felt him smile. “Not gonna lie, though, sweetheart. Seeing us was hot as hell, but don’t worry. All the footage is gone.”
She let out another breath. Holy crap, she wasn’t sure she could take much more. Her emotions were all over the place—fear, relief, terror, completely inappropriate arousal. Rinse and repeat.
She could admit that picturing Xander watching the video of them in the hot tub had her heart rate quickening. Again, completely inappropriate with what was going on, but it was the God’s honest truth.
“The photos of us looked to be long-range.”
And back to being scared. But long-range was good, right? Creepy, but good. It had to be better than up close and personal.
“Baby, we’re going to figure this out. Your car, you getting pushed, all the photos. We’re going to figure out how it’s all tied together.”
For a moment, she studied their linked hands. She knew he’d do everything he could to protect her, but it didn’t stop the trickle of fear from inching down her spine. Then his words registered. “You think it’s all connected? Even what happened with my car?”
“I do. Too many coincidences.” He hesitated, and she tilted her head in question. “One of the parade photos I saw had our faces scratched out.” He nodded to the blue box on the bed behind them. “Like those.”
Her stomach dropped and filled with dread. Holy shit, of course their faces were scratched out.
His phone dinged with an incoming text, and the pessimist in her cringed. She didn’t want any more bad news.
He checked his phone and stood, pulling her up with him. “Wilson’s downstairs. Everyone’s gathering at Frazier and Bean’s place. We can take your rental, and Wilson will follow us.”
She focused on the plan and nodded. “One step at a time, right?”
He tilted her chin up with his knuckle and pressed a kiss to her lips. “That’s right.”
As he picked up her suitcase, she grabbed the box of photos and placed it in a large tote bag. “Xander?”
He paused at the door and turned back to her.
“Thank you for helping me. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t shown up . . .” She’d probably be curled up in fetal position in her bed after having puked her guts out from fear. Like she’d done the last few times she’d gotten the ominous photos.
“There’s nothing to thank me for, Frey. I’m here for you.” He was once again in front of her, wrapping her in his strong arms. “I’m all in, remember?”
Again, he lifted her chin up with his finger, and the look he gave her—one of care and concern and something so sweet she didn’t want to jinx it by naming it—had her chest squeezing. “I’m all in too. Let’s go figure this out.”