Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Seth was in motion the instant he heard Callie scream. He whirled, grabbing for his gun, scanning the parking lot for danger.
In an instant, he realized the danger wasn’t out there. It was Callie, who was rocketing toward the ground, her eyes wide and scared. Seth lunged, grabbing one of her flailing arms and jerking her toward him. She was lighter than he’d thought she would be. She flew forward, colliding with his body hard enough to make him grunt.
His arms went around her, and he instinctively turned her away from the stairs. From exposure. He managed to toe open the screen door, push the inner door, and pull her into the hallway that connected the back door to the bar. There was a set of stairs that went up to the second floor and a smaller hallway where the bathrooms were located.
It was dark in the hall compared to outside, and he couldn’t see her eyes yet. That didn’t stop him from pushing her into the wall, holding her against his body, and waiting for her trembling to subside.
“You okay?”
Her hands were curled into fists in his shirt and her breathing was ragged. She’d dropped her chin so she didn’t have to look at him.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“What happened?”
“Tripped and lost my balance. I’m kinda klutzy sometimes.”
Seth’s heart beat fast. Not as fast as hers, but more than usual. She’d scared the ever-loving fuck out of him. One minute they’d been walking into the Dawg, the warmth of laughter still a glow in his chest, and then she’d screamed.
He’d thought she’d seen Mikhail Volkov. That Volkov was lurking in the parking lot, a gun aimed at her heart. That she’d only seen him because he’d moved and sunlight had flashed off the weapon.
But no, she’d been hurtling for the ground. Backward, down six steps, where she’d been about to crash on concrete and hurt herself bad. If she didn’t break her head open.
Son of a bitch, that’d been close.
He didn’t move to let her go, and she didn’t move to step away. They stood like that in the darkened hallway, the sound of classic rock drifting to them from the speakers inside the Dawg. Cool air swirled around them, and laughter occasionally reached down the hall. He almost resented it, like it was interrupting something important.
Callie shifted against him, her body coming in contact with his groin. He barely kept himself from hissing in a breath as blood flowed south of his belt. Surprise rattled around in his brain. Along with a healthy dose of need.
Callie Crowell was soft in all the right places. Her tits against his chest were round and firm. He let his hands skim her sides, the indent of her waist, the flare of her hips. He stopped just there, not missing the intake of breath that matched his a moment ago.
He could kiss her. Dip his head and take her lips. She would let him.
And maybe that was her plan. Let him get involved. Let him strip her naked and explore her curves until he was drunk on her. Until he couldn’t be objective anymore.
Seth dragged in a centering breath and took a step back, breaking the contact between them. He put his hands on her shoulders, then tipped her chin up with a finger.
“You sure you aren’t hurt? Scrape anything? Bang a knee?”
Her eyes were wounded. Confused. Then she shook her head. “It’s okay. I scraped my hand trying to grab the railing, and I think my knee is bruised, but I’ll be fine. I tripped on the stairs, that’s all. My pride hurts worse than anything.”
He shoved a hand through his hair. “Guess I need to let you go up any stairs in front of me, then put you to the side and do a sweep.”
Which he probably should have done in the first place. Not that he’d truly intended to sweep the Dawg. He’d intended to walk in first, scan the joint, and go get a table. According to the info Seth had dug up earlier, Volkov was in Washington. Nowhere near Sutton’s Creek.
Though it’d take him about twelve hours of driving, give or take, to get here. Seth had talked to Ghost earlier when he’d stopped by the range to tell him what he’d found. They needed phone records on Volkov and location information so they could get more detailed tracking information. Ghost had asked, but so far they didn’t have anything.
Fucking DC bureaucrats.
“I’m sorry. I should have watched where I was going.”
Seth frowned. “I’m not blaming you, Callie. Shit happens. Just thinking if you’re as clumsy as you say, I need to make allowances for it. You break your head open on my watch, that’s on me. It’s nothing you did.”
Her forehead crinkled. “That’s nice of you, but believe me, I don’t expect you to save me from myself. That’s my job.”
“Not gonna argue with you. I’m the protector, it’s on me.” He reached for her hand and tugged her to his side.
She came willingly, but not without some side-eye. “What are you doing?”
“Holding on so I can get you inside and seated without another incident. Now move your ass, honey.”
She followed him into the Dawg, her hand anchored in his. Rory looked up from where she was wiping down the bar, smiling big when she saw him. There were a few folks at lunch, but the crowds had moved on at nearly two in the afternoon. They’d return for dinner, though. The Dawg was known far and wide for its menu, courtesy of Theo Harper, who liked to dabble. Besides bar staples like burgers and wings, Theo served up lunch and dinner specials. Today was meatloaf.
“Hey, Seth,” Rory said, walking over to where he chose a table in a corner so he could observe everyone coming in and going out. Habit. Even more so with a client to be protected.
“Hey, Rory. How’re you feeling?”
She put a hand to her belly. “Just peachy. Doc says my latest bloodwork is good. All is going as we hoped.”
“That’s fantastic, honey.” He leaned in to kiss her cheek when she got close enough to hug him. Chance would box his ears if he were here to see it, but Rory was good people and sweeter than pie. And Seth adored her for making his friend so happy. “Do you know Callie Crowell?”
Rory stepped back to hold out a hand to Callie. “I think I’ve seen you in the Dawg a couple of times. I’m Rory Harper. My brother Theo and I run the place.”
“Rory’s engaged to Chance,” Seth added. “And they’ve got a bun in the oven.”
Rory swatted him with a bar towel. But she was laughing. “Adorable idiot. Yes,” she said, returning her gaze to Callie. “We’re expecting a bundle of joy. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Thank you. It’s nice to meet you, too. And congratulations.”
Rory beamed. “Thanks.” She jerked her head at Seth. “So what are you doing with this dipshit? You look like a nice lady who could do a lot better than Mr. Tall, Dark, and Moody here.”
Callie blushed. Interesting.
“We aren’t a couple. Seth is giving me an estimate for a little security work. I guess I have to pay him in food for part of it.”
Rory laughed. “Sounds about right. What can I get y’all to drink?”
Seth ordered a Coke and Callie asked for water. Rory handed them menus from a table nearby and went to get the drinks.
“I suggest the daily special,” he told Callie. “Meatloaf and mashed potatoes with...” He gazed at the printed insert that listed the lunch specials. “Oooh, charred brussels sprouts with balsamic glaze. You don’t want to miss that. Unless you don’t like sprouts and then you still don’t want to miss it because you will like them after you eat those.”
Callie was looking at him with an arched eyebrow. “I’m learning secrets about you. One, you’re soft enough to fix an eccentric old lady’s computer when you don’t have to, which then makes you crack alien jokes. And two, food makes you chatty.”
He sat back with a shrug. “You aren’t wrong. I’ve got a soft spot for older people who don’t understand computers, and I like to eat.”
“That’s really sweet,” she said. “About older people and computers.”
Uncharacteristic heat crawled its way up his neck. “We grew up with this stuff. Millennials have almost always had computers. Gen Z doesn’t know anything else. And Gen Xers were still young enough to start having to use them at work when businesses started incorporating them. It’s the Boomers and Silent Gen folks who have the most trouble. Not all of them. Many are just as good at computers as younger people. But the ones who never had to use them and then suddenly they can’t make a doctor’s appointment without going to a website and filling something out? It’s fucking unfair to ask them to do that. To take away all the phone support and in-person support and demand they use a computer.”
Shit, and now he’d said a mouthful. She was staring at him with her mouth slightly open. Hell, he couldn’t believe he’d strung that many words together either. That was twice in one day he’d word vomited in front of her.
“You’re right. I hadn’t thought about it lately, but my grandparents weren’t computer literate at all. I can’t imagine Grandma trying to schedule a doctor’s appointment online. If she had to do it alone with no help, she’d have given up.”
“And wouldn’t go to the doctor.”
“No, probably not.”
He sighed, shoving a hand through his hair. “It’s a sore spot with me, that’s all. I’ve been standing in line at clinics where fucking military veterans, people who fought for this country, couldn’t figure out how to access a link, and then some snotty assed dickhead behind the counter didn’t want to help them. I help.”
As if on cue, Colleen came breezing in the back door, her laptop clutched in one hand, a harried look on her face. “Thank you so much,” she said as she handed it to him. “I really appreciate anything you can do. You’re an angel.”
“No guarantees, but I’ll do my best. I just need?—”
She waved her hands around. “Do whatever you want. You don’t have to ask permission. I have to get back to the store. I’m expecting a call about an exorcism. Nasty little demon. Living in an antique wardrobe. Must dash!”
Seth and Callie both stared as Colleen disappeared as fast as she’d arrived. Seth laid the laptop down with a sigh. Without Colleen’s email address or access to her phone for codes, it was going to take twice as long to get into the damned thing. He’d do it, though. Just required a bit of hacking.
“Is she serious?” Callie asked. “A demon in an antique wardrobe?”
“Pretty sure she is. She once interrogated me, Blaze, and Chance about if we’d bought any antiques or used furniture. Warned us not to. She said that’s how a demon could get a foothold in your house. She never explained what to do if the house was already old or how to check for demons in those originals cabinets you liked so well.”
Callie appeared to be biting the inside of her lip to hide a smile. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Best not even try. It makes sense to her and that’s enough. I’ve learned not to ask questions.”
Rory returned with their drinks. “Saw Colleen fly in and out again. What’s going on?”
“Demon in a wardrobe,” Seth said. “And her computer doesn’t work.” He pointed at the laptop on the table.
“Did she check it for a demon?”
“I’m going to assume she did. I’ll say a prayer just in case.”
Rory shook her head. “Just don’t let it loose in here, okay? We don’t need any more leaky pipes or crumbling plaster. Now did y’all decide what you want to eat?”
They ordered and Rory left to give the ticket to Theo. Seth popped open the laptop and booted it up. Predictably, it was stuck on a startup screen.
“Son of a bitch,” he grumbled. But he tapped a few keys and got the computer to start in safe mode. Then he set to work bypassing a bunch of bullshit and getting it ready for Colleen to use.
Callie watched with interest as he monkeyed with the settings. “You’re good with computers.”
He shot her a look. “You thought I was just muscle?”
“No. I saw you with a computer at the lab a couple of weeks ago. But I thought you were just inputting data.”
He typed a command to open a door into the OS. “Mostly,” he lied. “But I’ve picked up a few things here and there.”
She sipped her water through the straw. “I get lost in the work sometimes. I love to write new code. I thought this job would be that kind of thing, but it’s not as much as I’d like. I write some, but it’s mostly checking other people’s code, finding the flaws in millions of lines of text. Like combing for a needle in a haystack sometimes.”
The skin on his neck prickled. “Sounds interesting. What kind of code are you working on?”
She pulled in a breath as if to speak, then shook her head. “I can’t talk about it. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“Is that what Volkov wanted? For you to talk about it?”
Her gaze darted to the other patrons, but they were out of earshot. She didn’t speak, though. She just nodded.
“But you didn’t, so he tried to roast you.”
“It was a warning.”
“Hell of a warning.”
As if to confirm it, she coughed, her face going red with the intensity. He was just about to get alarmed when she stopped, grabbing for her water and taking a swallow. “Damn it,” she muttered.
“Do you talk to him in Russian or English?” Seth asked when she seemed okay again.
“Both. Why?”
He shrugged. “No reason. I only speak English, so I wondered what it’s like. If you have to think about it or if it just happens.”
She sighed, spread her hands on the table. “It mostly just happens. But Russian is harder. I have to think more. Polish and English are like breathing. My mom spoke exclusively Polish to me when I was little, my dad English. They wanted me to learn. By the time Nikki came along, they were a lot more lenient.”
“They didn’t do the same with her?”
“They weren’t as deliberate about it. Nikki is fluent, but she relies more on English, especially when she doesn’t know something. I should speak exclusively Polish to her, make her practice, but so far I haven’t. She hasn’t spoken a word of it since we moved here.” She dropped her gaze. “I don’t want to push her.”
Seth clenched his jaw. Frowned.
Dammit, he didn’t want to talk about this. But he was gonna because she was worried about her sister.
“My mom died of cancer when I was three. I don’t remember her. I was with my dad for a year, until he decided he couldn’t handle a kid and left me with his parents. My mom didn’t have any family, so they were the only choice. I was four, and four is different than sixteen, but I guess my point is that a kid can adapt pretty fast. You get used to your new normal. And you learn to live with it. She’s figuring out her new normal, but maybe it’s okay to push her sometimes.”
She looked sympathetic, like she was thinking about him as a lost little boy who’d been sent to live with his grandparents. He wasn’t about to tell her they were the kind of people who shouldn’t be charged with raising a puppy, much less a kid. She’d probably gasp in horror if he did.
“Maybe you can help your sister more than you think by engaging her. Because pretending there isn’t a problem doesn’t work.”
Callie’s eyes were suspiciously moist. Her mouth opened, but whatever she might have said was interrupted when Rory came out of the kitchen with a tray and headed their way. By the time she set the food down, made sure they had everything they needed and refilled their drinks, the moment was gone.
He was glad because he’d already said too much.