10. Tempest #2
She grins. "I'll take that as a compliment,” she says as she deals again.
Halfway through the hand, my phone vibrates on the coffee table.
Her eyes flick to the screen before they find mine again, and a slow smile spreads across her face. "Saved by Ghost."
I look at the phone and then back at her. "You were about to lose."
"I don't think we were playing the same game."
"We weren't."
She gathers the cards with a satisfied smile. "I was winning mine."
I shake my head and pick up the phone. "We're not finished."
She leans back against the sofa. "Oh, we are."
I answer the call. "Ghost."
"Rogue's got a name," he tells me.
I straighten. "Who?"
"Private investigator by the name of Marcus Webb. Three years in the business, before that he was in insurance fraud investigations. He was hired four months ago,” he says and I hear pages rustling, which means that he’s reading through the documents that Rogue gave him.
"We think he's the one who found her, that he tracked the relocation, the new address, and handed everything to Calloway and got paid. "
My stomach clenches. Fuck, so that’s how the asshole found her again, he hired someone to do it. "And where is he based?"
"He's got a Boston office. He knows the city, the camera positions, the traffic patterns. That's how Calloway has been running surveillance without exposing himself too much." Ghost's voice stays even. "The SUV could be Webb as often as it is Calloway."
Christ, another prick to add to the equation. Just what we need. That fucker has hired a professional, someone who knows how to find people who've deliberately made themselves unfindable, who has local contacts and knowledge that Calloway, coming from Connecticut, wouldn't have on his own.
"How much does Webb know about why he was hired?" I ask.
"That's what we're working on. He might be a hired hand who found her and moved on, or he might still be active,” he says thickly. "It matters for what happens next."
"I'm coming in," I say through gritted teeth.
"No."
"Ghost—"
"Think about it." His voice is low and filled with anger.
"If Webb is still active, still feeding Calloway information, then Calloway knows her schedule.
He knows when she leaves, when she returns, if she's alone.
You leave tonight, she's alone and Calloway knows it inside of twenty minutes.
You're not coming in because you're exactly where I need you.
I've got Savage and Sniper running Webb.
I've got Rogue on Calloway's financials. You're her cover."
I look at Lilah and see the worry on her face. He’s right; I’m right where I need to be.
"Yeah," I say. "Alright."
"I'll call when there's more," he assures me and hangs up before I get the chance to say anything else. I lower my phone. Lilah's already watching me from across the coffee table, the cards spread between us forgotten.
"What is it?" she asks, voice trembling slightly.
"Rogue found another name,” I tell her, but she doesn't speak, her gaze focused on me, and fuck me, I see the fear shining in them.
That look alone almost guts me. "Calloway hired a private investigator out of Hartford.
" Her entire body locks at my words. I don’t hesitate, and I give her it all.
"The PI tracked your name change, he found the apartment, he gave him everything. "
She looks down at the cards in her hand. "So... he didn't find me."
"No."
Her eyes shine bright with unshed tears. Christ. "He paid someone who could."
"Yeah."
A long silence settles between us. She turns one of the cards over in her fingers, slowly, over and over again. "That explains it," she says quietly.
"What?"
"The cameras." She finally looks up. "The routes, the timings." She swallows. "I kept thinking he couldn't possibly know Boston that well."
"He didn't."
She swallows hard. "He had someone who did."
"Looks that way."
She stares at the cards for another few seconds. "How many people are involved?"
"We don't know."
She sighs heavily. "But more than one."
"Yeah."
She lays her cards face down, one by one. "I don't think I want to play anymore."
I nod. "Okay."
She sits there for another moment before standing. "I'm just..." She gestures vaguely toward the hallway. "I need a minute."
I look her in the eyes. "Take it."
She disappears into the bedroom, closing the door quietly behind her. I gather the cards into a single pile, shuffle them once, and then put them back in the box. I don't follow her, because the best thing I can do is give her the space she's asking for.
Ten minutes later, she comes back out. Her eyes are a little red; she doesn't mention it and neither do I. She sits beside me on the sofa, close enough that our shoulders almost touch. "Sorry."
"What for?"
"I walked away."
"You needed a minute."
She nods. "Yeah." She nudges my shoulder gently. "You still owe me a rematch."
I look at her. "I was about to win."
She snorts. "You were about to lose."
"I remember it differently."
She shakes her head, her eyes alight with humor. "I imagine you do."
I reach for the cards. "Best of five?"
She smiles. "You're on."
Her bedroom door opens just after half two. I watch as she pads across the apartment in an oversized T-shirt, her hair loose around her shoulders. She doesn't seem surprised to find me awake. "Couldn't sleep?" she asks.
"Didn't try."
She disappears into the kitchen and comes back with two glasses of water. She offers me one.
"Thanks."
She sits on the sofa, and I stay by the window. "You been standing there long?"
I shrug, not sure what to say. "Long enough."
"You know Ghost told you to stay with me."
"I am."
She smiles. "I meant... you don't have to stand guard every second."
"I do."
She watches me for a moment, then gets up and crosses the room until she's standing beside me. "You really mean that, don't you?"
"What?"
"That you'll stay, always on guard, as long as it takes."
I turn to look at her. "I don't know how to do this halfway, Lilah."
She searches my face. "You've known me nine days."
"I know."
She gives me a wry smile. "You barely know me."
I stare at her, watching her beautiful face. "I know."
"So why?"
Because somewhere over the last nine days she'd stopped being the woman Ghost asked me to protect, she'd become mine to worry about. I don't tell her any of that; instead, I say the only thing that matters. "Because you're safe with me."
She blinks. "I don't know if I remember what safe feels like."
I take one step closer. "You don't have to." She frowns at my words. "I'll remember it for both of us until you do."
She looks up at me. "You make that sound easy."
"It isn't."
"No?" she asks, surprised.
I shake my head. "No. I meant what I said." She looks at me with a questioning look. "You're safe with me."
A tear slips down her cheek; she laughs quietly as she wipes it away. "I know.” She glances away, and when she looks back, her eyes are clear once again. “You should try and get some sleep," she says quietly.
"So should you."
She smiles. "I've been trying."
"So have I."
"I keep thinking about earlier," she says after a few moments.
"The kiss?"
She nods and I lift my hand slowly, giving her every chance to step back; instead, she leans into the touch before my fingers even reach her face. My thumb brushes her cheek. "I've wanted to do that again all night," I admit.
A smile flickers across her face. "Then why didn't you?"
"The timing wasn't exactly ideal."
A quiet laugh escapes her. "No."
"It still isn't."
"No."
"But I'm done waiting for perfect."
She looks at me for a long moment. "So am I."
I close the distance between us, slamming my lips down on hers, as much as I want to devour her, I don’t, it’s soft and fuck, she tastes so fucking good.
My hand settles against her jaw while hers curls around the front of my T-shirt. She parts her lips beneath mine, and I deepen the kiss without thinking, deep enough that it steals the breath from both of us. When we finally break apart, neither of us moves very far.
Her forehead rests against mine. "I meant what I said earlier," I murmur.
She looks up at me.
"You're safe with me."
Something softens in her eyes. "I know." I believe her.
She slips her hand into mine and gives it a small squeeze before turning back toward the sofa and I follow her.
She curls into the corner, and I take the other end.
Then, without a word, she shifts closer, drawing her feet beneath her, her shoulder brushing mine.
She hesitates for the briefest second before resting her head against my shoulder.
I don't move, not wanting to disturb her. Within minutes, her breathing slows and evens out. I look down and see that she's asleep, so I turn back and watch the street.
Tonight, that's enough for both of us.