Chapter 31
SAVANNAH
My hands still shake from the little present that was left for me in the elevator at the Empire State Building—partly from fear, but mostly from anger.
Rory was trying to do something nice, and I loved it. It was the perfect date—intimate, thoughtful, and fun. But my stalker just had to go and ruin it.
Rory jerks the wheel, weaving his car around a taxi.
An oomph is pushed out of my throat as my seatbelt tightens with the movement. “You don’t have to drive like we’re being chased by the boogie man.” My hands fly to brace myself on the dashboard and door handle.
“I have precious cargo that needs protecting, and the safest places to do that are the penthouse and RHL,” Rory returns. “And right now we’re heading to the penthouse.”
“But do you have to cut so many people off?” I question as another angry driver honks their horn at us.
I watch as Rory’s face lights up. “Are we bickering about my driving?”
My mouth turns into a confused frown. “I guess.”
“That makes us a real couple,” he surmises with a wide smile.
My brows lift, and my voice raises an entire octave. “That’s your criteria? We have to argue about how you drive?”
Rory sighs in content. “It’s a classic couple fight.”
“We need to be serious right now.” I remind him.
“I am,” he replies as he maneuvers around another taxi and pulls into the parking garage. He glides the car right into his spot, and the tires screech to a stop.
Hunter opens my door, pulling me from the car. Looking over his shoulder, I spot Luke and another man. He’s broad-shouldered and seems as solid as a rock.
“Who—” I start.
“No time for introductions,” Hunter interrupts, then turns his head to talk to the stranger and Luke. “Inside. Now.”
Hunter lifts me off my feet and sprints toward the private elevator in the corner of the garage. I yelp at his speed and wrap my arms around his neck. Rory, Luke, and the new guy are hot on Hunter’s heels with guns in their hands.
The elevator ride to the penthouse is dead quiet. I open my mouth a few times to speak, but I choke on the tension in the cramped space.
Once inside the penthouse, Hunter takes the lead, guiding us all into the living room. He motions between the stranger and me. “Calder, this is Savannah Foster. Savannah, this is Hollis Calder.”
“Nice to meet you,” I greet.
“Ma’am,” he politely returns with a slight southern drawl.
“He’s the Chief Security Officer at RHL,” Luke explains.
Hunter reaches under the lip of one of the end tables. I see his fingers move like he’s pressing buttons, then the center of the small table rises, revealing a stash of handguns and ammunition. They all reach for the supplies like hidden stashes of weapons are not big deal.
“How—” I shake my head, dislodging my question. “Never mind. I don’t want to know. You’re going to look into the Shepherd?” I ask Hollis.
“No,” Hunter answers as he checks the bullets in his gun. The other men follow suit, double checking magazines and racking their firearms. “He’s your personal bodyguard.”
My head whips toward Hunter, and my voice comes out with a squeak. “What?” My little outburst doesn’t get a reaction from anyone. They all continue as if I didn’t say a word.
Hollis slides his gun into the holster hidden beneath his farm. “My team will be here soon, sir. They were on an assignment in Queens.”
“Team?” I screech, “There are more of them?” Once again, no reaction.
“Police?” Hollis questions.
“Not this time,” Luke responds.
“Noted.” Hollis’ phone vibrates, and he checks it quickly. “I’ll go meet Brooks and Emmett downstairs and get them up to speed. We’ll set up a schedule.”
When Hollis is gone, I cross my arms and huff. “I don’t need someone hovering over my shoulder every second of the day.”
Rory tilts his head and lifts his hands, palms up. “You won’t. When you’re in the penthouse, they’ll be down in the lobby. When you’re at RHL, again, the lobby.”
“Then what’s the point?” I complain.
Hunter sighs as he loads up another magazine with bullets. “They’ll guard exits and entrances. No one gets near you without being vetted thoroughly. We’re not playing fast and loose with your safety.”
“What about the Rose and Gold Gala tomorrow night,” Rory adds as he slides a magazine into the grip part of the gun.
"Fuck." Hunter growl out as he sets down his gun, rests his hands on his hips, and tilts his head toward the ceiling with a sigh. “That’s not enough time to run background checks on all the guests.”
“The what and what gala?” I ask, looking at all three of them for an answer.
“Rose and Gold Gala,” Luke responds, holstering his gun at his waist. “It’s a function we have to attend. We show up, donate some money, make small talk while we pretend to like people, then leave.”
Hard pass. It sounds like a place where everyone drinks nasty champagne, wears insanely expensive clothes, and the judgment, along with subtle digs, run rampant.
I do a slow blink. “I’m sure you three will have a lovely time. Hollis and I can—”
Hunter’s attention snaps in my direction as he interjects, “You’re coming with us.”
Shaking my head, I take a step back. “No, thank you. I’ll wait here. I got the whole A-Team at my beck and call, apparently.” I wave my hand toward the elevator where Hollis exited earlier.
Luke wraps his hand around my upper arm and pulls me back toward them. “Oh, you’re coming. If I have to go, you have to go.”
“Why do any of us have to go?” I throw my hands down at my sides.
“Because attending these things ensures our clients, who run in these circles, renew their contracts,” Hunter lectures.
Thinking I have a valid excuse, I shoot back, “I don’t have a dress.”
Hunter raises his brows and shifts his weight, leaning toward me. “Yes, you do. You bought three when you tried to max out my credit card.”
My cheeks warm in embarrassment. “Oh. Right.”
Not my finest moment.
“I’ll be sure to make it up to you, Heartbreaker.”
“Me too,” Rory and Luke add together.
Rory pulls a scrap of paper out his pocket and holds it up. “We need to talk about this new note.”
Luke snatches it from Rory. “It’s fucked up. Unclean hands clearly refer to us.”
Hunter takes his turn looking it over next. “What about ‘time of cleansing?’”
I don’t need to look at the note again. Each is seared in my brain. “John bathed his victims in bleach, rather, he ‘baptized’ them. Then he’d write on the wall in their blood, ‘she has been cleansed.’ I think he means to do the same,” I theorize.
“But Shepherd left a cup, not a bathtub,” Luke rebuts. “He intended for you to drink the bleach, not swim around in it.”
Hunter rubs his chin and points to me. “This raises the possibility that Shepherd and the copycat are one and the same.”
“Or it’s two people working together,” Rory adds.
My shoulders tensely raise, then drop dramatically. “Or it’s not connected whatsoever, and you’re all overreacting.”
Rory tilts his head to the side. “Mmm. No. I’m going with option B.”
My fingers rub my eyes, trying to dispel the stress. “You’re all impossible.”
“You mean impossibly sexy?” Rory smirks.
Dropping my hands, I level him with narrowed eyes. “I said what I said.”
“Well, this tired and grumpy hacker is off to bed.” Luke scoops me up in his arms, heading for the stairs.
“What’re you doing?” I squeal in surprise.
Stomping up the stairs, Luke whips out his commanding tone. “Just accept it.”
I want to put up a fight, but he’s trained me like Pavlov’s dogs. I hear that tone, and I comply.
Oddly enough, I don’t mind it.