Chapter 10
Rooster
"I don't think it's a good idea," Twisted says, his arms crossed over his chest as he closes himself off to the other guys in the room.
He hasn't glanced my way once since he walked in here, and although it feels very childish, I don't get to dictate how the man behaves.
"We can't hold her prisoner," Bandera interjects.
"We can, at a minimum, have someone watch her house if she goes home," Heathen suggests.
"Is that a Cerberus thing?" Whiskey asks as he looks at each guy in the room. "There's only four of us."
"Five," I interject, needing the man to eventually realize I'm as much a part of this team as the other guys who work in the field.
"Five," he corrects. "If we put someone on every woman who might be in danger, we're going to run out of the ability to help anyone."
"She's in danger because of me," I remind him. "I think until I know what Henry's plans are, she deserves our protection."
"And she can get it here," Whiskey argues. "If she wants to leave, we can't spread ourselves so thin that we can't protect anyone."
"I spoke with her earlier," Bandera says with his hands up as if to stave off any other remarks. "She wants to go to her house and get some clothes, and she wants to go to work."
"So we sit on her at work?" Whiskey asks.
"What is your fucking problem?" Twisted growls, his arms uncrossing. He leans in, pressing his palms flat to the conference room table as if preparing to jump across the damn thing and punch Whiskey in the face.
Whiskey shrugs, unfazed by his teammate's reaction.
"Sitting on her at work is no different from sitting on her at her house," the newest member argues. "It ties up resources."
"If she comes back here, then it won't take more than one person a day to keep an eye on her," Bandera says. "I think we can spare someone."
"I would prefer to work a different case," Whiskey says. "I need a break from sitting and doing nothing all damn day."
"Understood," Bandera adds, once again taking the lead as if he has an invisible president patch on his chest. "I will ask that you and Twisted accompany her to her house so she can grab some more clothes and whatever essentials she may need for her continued stay here."
Whiskey dips his head in agreement, drawing another scowl from Twisted.
I wouldn't be surprised if the guys got in a fistfight before the day ended.
"Where are we with your evil twin?" Bandera asks, turning his attention to me. "Anything new?"
I shake my head. "I have all sorts of programs running. I have alerts set up, and there hasn't been a single hit."
"He's done this shit in the past?" Whiskey asks.
This is his first meeting in the conference room, so he missed the other meetings we've had since shit went down at Morgan's house a few days ago.
"Too many times to count," I mutter.
"But he's never hurt anyone?"
"He wrapped his arm around my wife's throat and made her pass out before holding a knife there and threatening her with it," Heathen growls. "He could've raped her."
"He didn't," I remind him.
Henry is a lot of things. He's done some really horrible stuff in his life, but he's not a sexual predator. He might've flirted with Morgan to put her in the position she's in, but I don't think he would've pressed his luck or forced himself on her if she had told him to stop. What they did, although manipulative and deceptive on his part, was completely consensual.
"My point," Whiskey says as Heathen and I stare at each other, "is that she may not be in any real physical danger, right?"
His eyes land on me, and my first instinct is to do what I've always done— defend my brother on some off-chance of hope that he'll wake up one day and change his ways.
But I have to be completely honest, no matter how much I hate the realization.
"He's escalating," I say. "As much as he's done in the past, to my knowledge, he never took someone hostage. He never hurt a woman until Kaylee. I can't say with any level of certainty that he won't take it further next time."
Whiskey dips his head as if he believes me and that acceptance is all he needs to get on board with the plans to protect Morgan.
"I'll take the first watch tomorrow when she returns to work," Bandera says. "Then we'll play it by ear."
"She's not going to wait until Monday to go back to work?" Twisted asks.
"She wants to stop using vacation days," Bandera explains. "She has a trip planned to Europe in the summer."
"She's traveling alone?" Twisted growls, making it very clear that he feels a higher level of protectiveness over the woman than he probably should.
Heathen looks in my direction, his eyebrows raising. It seems I'm not the only one who has caught on to Twisted feeling something for Morgan.
"You got a real hard-on for her, huh?" Whiskey asks, and I swear the guy is stirring the damn pot just to see how long it's going to take to bubble over.
"That's... are we done here?" Twisted asks as he stands.
Bandera looks around the room before dipping his head. Twisted is gone a second later, leaving the conference room door wide open.
"I really thought this job was going to be boring," Whiskey says as he stands and leaves.
"He's going to be trouble," Heathen mutters.
"Which one?" Bandera asks his question, reflecting my own thoughts.
Heathen doesn't answer because we all know there may be problems with both guys.
My eyes follow Bandera toward the door and I notice a hint of movement off to the left of the open door, but I don't have to wonder what it is for too long before Morgan steps into the doorway.
Her eyes immediately seek mine, sending a wave of awareness through my body. I can easily see myself growing addicted to the way she searches a room for me.
My smile widens when hers spreads across her face.
"The guys will be ready to take you back to your house in about half an hour," Bandera tells her before leaving the room.
She stands just inside the threshold as if she's nervous to enter.
"Is it okay if I come in?"
"Of course," I say, giving my computer screens a quick glance to make sure there isn't anything on them that she shouldn't see.
She's a friend of Kaylee’s, and as welcome as she is here, there's certain stuff we're working on that she has no business knowing.
"So you know I'm going back to work tomorrow," she says as she draws closer.
"I do."
"And what's your opinion on it?"
I watch her eyes, knowing I'm not the type of person to change my thoughts based on who is standing in front of me, even if it means they will change their opinion about me.
"I think Bandera is going to be outside your office to make sure you're as safe as he can make you."
"Do you normally avoid questions?" she asks teasingly.
"I'm not avoid—"
"I asked how you felt about me going back to work," she clarifies.
I tilt my head and pull in a deep breath.
"I think that you have every right to dictate what happens in your life, and although we can keep you safe here, we're not going to hold you hostage for your own good."
"That's... closer to an opinion," she says. "What else?"
"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little nervous. Henry is sneaky, and it's hard to predict what his next play will be."
"I don't think I can live a secluded life forever," she says.
"I understand," I tell her with complete honesty. "Someone will be outside."
"Will you ever be the one waiting for me to get off work?"
I give her a weak smile. A part of me wishes I could do that, but I also know that if anything happens, I'm the last person she needs there. I don't have the same skill set as the others, and I'd only be a hindrance which would put her in more danger.
"I'm always here," I say, patting the computer desk. "But, full disclosure, I'll still be able to keep an eye on you."
I hit a few keys on the keyboard, pulling up the cameras inside her office building.
She blinks at the screen, but instead of her lips turning down in a frown, I see a hint of a smile playing on her lips.
"That's my desk," she says, pointing to one screen.
"Do you like your job?"
She shrugs. "It pays the bills, but you work on a computer all day. You have to know how boring it can be."
"My work is a little different. I can't imagine staring at numbers all day. I think my eyes would cross."
She laughs, and the sound runs down my spine in the best possible way.
"I think I'll need bifocals before I turn forty."
"Morgan?"
We both turn our attention to the door.
I can tell Twisted is doing his best not to have any sort of reaction to how close we are to each other, but there's still a slight tick in the corner of his right eye.
"We're ready when you are," he says, giving her a soft smile.
"TBC?" she asks.
"See you later," I promise, my eyes going back to my screen so I don't get busted staring at her ass as she leaves the room. I pull up the cameras in the house and follow them out into the waiting SUV and then have the cameras on her front porch pulled up before the gate here closes.
Some might call it creepy. I convince myself I'm just being thorough.