Chapter 20 #2
Her eyes lit up as she clipped the keyring to one of her belt loops. “You’re right, I didn’t even think of that. Wait.” She paused, looking up at him. “Love nest?”
Rhys tried not to show the visceral panic coursing through him. He debated making a joke out of it, but he’d wanted to broach the subject with her at some point. “Is it hard to believe that I might have caught a stray feeling or two?”
Penny simply stared at him, her dark eyes wide with shock. “I…”
Fuck it. He’d come this far, might as well bare his heart completely.
“When this is all over,” he began, choosing his words carefully.
“I want a future with you, Penny.” She opened her mouth, but he shook his head.
“Don’t say anything yet.” Don’t refuse me out of hand.
“I know it’s a lot to take in, and I can be flexible.
And patient. Just think about it—really think about it. Okay?”
“Okay,” Penny whispered, with an affirmative nod. “I will.” Silence fell between them as she looked over to the arcade’s entrance—and across the Thames. “Do you think we should go back and check on them? It’s been well over an hour now.”
“Pen…”
“Chomsky’s system is a clusterfuck at the best of times.
It’s not designed to be used by anyone outside the company, and half of those files are password protected.
I think I gave her the passwords for everything, but Laila could have hit a brick wall, and then we’d all be wasting our time and have to do this whole thing again. Let’s at least check, Rhys.”
One look at the determination locked into Penny’s expression told him there was no point in arguing. Knowing her, she’d go with or without him.
“Come on, then.” Reluctantly, he let himself be guided out of the bustling arcade. The beeps and jingles he’d grown used to fell away as they began their walk over the bridge. The wind had picked up since they’d entered, snatching away the voices of the people walking around them.
The closer they came to the station entrance, the more protective he became.
When they travelled through the doors, his burning gaze travelled over every tourist they passed, every commuter, every local, even every member of staff. Each and every one of them was suspect.
They descended on the escalators once again, leaving wind and sunshine behind in favour of fluorescent lighting and the low whine of approaching tube trains. Rhys kept her close as they neared the café, the crowd thinning in the wide hallway.
The café itself, he was relieved to see, was almost empty, bar Laila and Dex in the corner booth.
Dex faced them, absorbed by the laptop that sat in front of him.
It wasn’t until they were mere feet away that he finally blinked his concentration away and noticed their arrival.
“Hey guys.” He grinned, all blue eyes and blond hair. “How’s things?”
Penny greeted Laila with a smile, flopping down beside her. “I was about to ask you two the same thing.”
Rhys took the seat next to Dex, allowing him to keep an eye on the door.
“Well.” Laila tucked her hair behind her ears, lowering her voice. “The good news is I’ve managed to clone all the available files. That went by surprisingly quickly, and it meant I was able to turn off the phone a half hour ago.”
Rhys felt the weight of the world slipping off his shoulders. He sat back in his seat, taking his first unimpeded breath of the day. “So they can’t track us anymore?”
“Nope.”
He sifted a hand through his dark hair, grinning across at Penny. “Thank fuck for that.”
“We also have the file you need to prove he’s committed a crime—the one at the docks. I’ve made backups of my backups just in case, but this allows us to go to the cops with proof.”
Rhys reached across the table to take Penny’s hand, locking their fingers together.
“I have also found a truckload of folders with hidden files—based on the author, they’re Chomsky’s personal files. I’ve tried to worm my way in, but they’re not budging. I’ll keep trying, but without being physically connected to the network, I don’t think I can get through.”
Penny shook her head. “Thank you so much, Laila. The one at the docks is evidence enough.” She looked over to Dex and Rhys. “So what now? We go to the police?”
Laila let out a hum of dismissal as she took a sip of her drink.
“I’d advise against that.” She tapped the top of her laptop screen.
“Evidence can go missing, especially with someone like Chomsky. Newspapers, on the other hand, are ravenous for a gruesome story. Having photos from the docks video plastered across newspapers up and down the country will force the police to act whether they like it or not.”
“Did you have a particular newspaper in mind?” Rhys asked.
“Now I know exactly what I’m dealing with, let me make a few calls.
I can set up some meetings. Regarding the video itself,” Laila began, handing over USB sticks to both Rhys and Penny, “I’ve loaded copies onto these.
I’ve also sent copies to your email, although they won’t go through until we’re at level one. ”
“So we don’t need the phone anymore, then?” Penny fiddled with the flash drive.
Laila shook her head, her long hair shifting. “No. I have a copy of everything on there; I’ve sent you a link to give the two of you access, but again, you won’t get it til we surface. As far as the phone itself goes, I’d get rid of it however you see fit.”
A bone-deep sense of calm settled within him as he glanced across the table at Penny. Getting rid of the phone wouldn’t be difficult. Now that they had the video in hand, there was no reason for Penny to leave Roman’s flat until the threat had been dealt with.
He blew out a relieved breath. They had time—time in which Penny could consider just how she felt about him, and whether there was a future for them.
Until then, he could sleep at night knowing that she was safely nestled in his arms, whilst the emerald ripples of the northern lights danced on the ceiling above them.