26. Chapter 26 #3
“You’re positive about their schedule?” I whisper as I step around the corner heading toward the first pole we’re hanging a camera from.
Roman’s hand clasps over my mouth before his other wraps around my waist and pulls me back against his chest. Panic immediately floods my system.
My breaths come out ragged and desperate as my eyes dart up to him.
Whether it’s from some kind of trauma response or proximity to Roman, I’m not sure.
Either way, when his eyes lock onto mine, they’re calm.
Cool. Collected. He’s confident about this plan, and that has every ounce of distress dissipating into thin air.
“I’m positive. Trust me.” He whispers. “Now… be quiet.”
He removes his hand from my mouth, but his grip remains on my hip, keeping me in place.
I lean into him, taking all the support that he’s willing to offer me.
The heat from his entire body is flooding off of him, encasing me in a veil of false protection.
His breath pulses against the side of my face like a heartbeat, steady and strong, keeping every shred of my attention on him.
If I turned my face to the side, there would be mere inches between our lips.
The urge to turn, to face him, and see if he gave in the way I’ve been desperate to do more and more lately, it’s almost overwhelming.
I shift on my feet, forcing myself slightly off center to put some space between our faces.
Less than sixty seconds later, the beam of a flashlight rounds the corner and bounces down the aisle I was about to walk down before it turns off in another direction.
I would’ve been there, right out in the open, for anyone to see.
I peek over my shoulder knowingly, locking eyes with Roman again.
It’s my silent thank you for saving my ass, and he nods in acknowledgement.
He holds me in place as he steps around me and double checks the path we need to take before pulling me along behind him.
He keeps us tight against the walls of the containers, sticking to the shadows in the same way I was trained.
I’m not used to doing this without any kind of back-up or protection.
The man that raised me was not loving, but he was filthy rich.
Even the training that Gatlin and I went through had top of the line equipment at our disposal.
Any kind of gun that we preferred, knives, drones, a whole ass crew of people to rescue us if something went south.
Roman and I… we have none of that. If it weren’t for the fact that Roman is invaluable at the prison, I’m not even fully convinced that Maven would bother looking for us if we disappeared based on his little performance over me coming on this damn mission. Which, again, I am not qualified for.
Roman leads the way the rest of the night, sneaking us to every point that we mapped out without a single flaw.
It’s easy to see that he had training very similar to mine, but his personality is actually fit for this type of work.
Which just has me questioning why Maven even decided to send me here in the first place.
Just because I have the knowledge needed to do this, it doesn’t mean that I’m the best person for the job.
When we finally step off the elevator, the doors whirring closed behind us, I let out a sigh of relief as I walk into the kitchen.
“Thank god that’s over,” I complain as I grab a glass from the cabinet.
“That wasn’t the hard part, pretty boy. We still have a long way to go.”
I snap my eyes to him, glaring in his direction for calling me that again, but he doesn’t pay any attention to me.
He stalks over to the desk in the living room and starts flicking on the few monitors he got for this project.
I return my attention back to getting a glass of water before wandering over to the couch to watch what he’s doing.
“Why are there no feeds here?” I ask as I point to the two displays with static playing on a loop.
He reaches over to the switchboard, flicking a couple button, and twisting a half-dozen knobs in a mesmerizing and methodical pattern that only he knows.
He pulls up a few browser windows, types a whole bunch of gibberish that I could never begin to understand, and within seconds the feeds flare to life.
Instead of showing the shipping yard, they’re flicking through different views of the hotel were staying in.
Realization dawns on me, and I’m honestly shocked by how fucking brilliant this man is sometimes.
“Well, holy fuck… You just hacked the hotel camera feeds.“ I whisper as I stand up and walk over behind him. When I rest my hand on the back of his chair, he glances up at me, a little bit of bashfulness and a whole lot of smug written all over his face.
He reaches out, gently brushing my windblown hair from my face. “I have to make sure you’re safe. That’s my number one priority. No matter what.“ He admits quietly before turning back toward the screens.
Not that we’re safe. That I’m safe. Me.
If only he knew that I could protect myself from just about everything.
Except him.