Chapter Twenty-Eight
Margo
January
“Grumpy,” I hissed into my cell phone. “I didn’t go down on you this morning just so you could be up my ass all day.”
I didn’t mean to blurt that out, and when the old lady who was lingering in the conversation pit just across the hall in front of me spun on her heel, I realized that I needed to retrain my damn filter.
I gave her a shaky smile as the classroom I’d just left began to empty out behind me, the hallway now filled with thirty different conversations. She narrowed her eyes at me and shook her head.
Shit—that wasn’t just some old lady—that was my new economics professor.
“We can try that later,” Hayes replied, sounding distracted.
I turned to face the wall, a chill skating down my spine at his tone. “What is it?”
“I thought your class ended at two.”
“It did—it does. It ran over a few minutes,” I rushed out, glancing into the now empty room. “What’s up?”
“Got an update on Gordon.”
My stomach clenched. “Okay, let me go outside,” I breathed, rushing through the small group of people, ignoring the glare of my professor. I didn’t have time to think about those repercussions. Not right now.
The holidays had come and gone without any news regarding Gordon or the FBI.
Since a restraining order was hand delivered to Marcus, I hadn’t heard from him again.
His compliance wasn’t surprising to me. He never really cared about me being in his life, only what I could offer him whenever he needed something.
After Hayes’ confession and multiple deep conversations, we mutually agreed to not rush anything.
We were together, but there weren’t any rings or wedding plans involved—that would be batshit crazy.
He wanted a future with me and I with him, but we both needed to grow more as people before we jumped into our happily ever after.
Did I love him?
Yes.
And with each passing day, I loved him more.
He kept me warm.
For right now, that was enough.
I finished my finals two weeks before Christmas.
Hayes and I spent the holidays together, bouncing back and forth between Portland and Astoria.
Some days, I didn’t get to see him until close to midnight.
He’d come home, drop his keys in the bowl by the door (yes, I thrifted one for his apartment), shower, and come to me.
My final semester began three days ago, and Professor Ashley had invited all of her project leaders to a dinner in downtown Seattle last weekend.
It was the fanciest restaurant I’d ever been to, and just as I started second-guessing bringing my overprotective new boyfriend along, my Superman managed to whisk my anxiety away with his charming smiles and polite conversation.
For a good twenty minutes of the evening, I felt like Julia Roberts’ character from Pretty Woman.
I only knew which one was the salad fork and I’d lost count of how many courses there were.
Hayes, being Hayes, stood firm in his grace and perfection, putting a reassuring hand on my knee under the tablecloth that probably cost more than my couch.
Professor Ashley wanted to treat us before giving us the news.
There were five projects she was conducting in total.
The group that presented the most compelling business model would have a chance to win the American Creative Business Minds Association Award of the year.
She dropped this little detail on us in the middle of the soup course (the third or the fifth?) and I nearly choked on a green onion.
On the way back to Hayes’ apartment, I spent the entire two hours vomiting all my thoughts for the project to Hayes.
He listened, but didn’t say much aside from the occasional rebuttal question, just to keep my ideas flowing.
When he pulled the Jeep into his spot in the parking garage, he reached over, unbuckled my seat belt, put me in his lap and made me see God with his fingers.
Then, as I tried to regain my wits, he righted my dress and thickly said, “You’re the most brilliant woman I’ve ever known.
Your ideas are going to change lives, baby. I’m so damn proud of you.”
Snapping back to the present, he waited patiently on the other end of the line as I weaved through students, coffee addicts, and research specialists, my eyes on the huge glass doors just ahead of me.
“I’m hurrying,” I huffed.
“I know you are, beautiful,” he replied. I could practically see him in his office, looking out to the city, dressed in his usual cargo pants and thermal, Gordon’s file in his free hand.
The harsh winter air slapped my face as I opened the door. Thankfully, Seattle had been graced with its first sunny day in three weeks, its light bouncing off the three-day old blanket of snow. My eyes scanned the quad quickly, spotting a quiet spot underneath a sleeping willow tree. A safe haven.
“Okay, hit me with it.” I mentally braced. “Am I going to have to go underground? Spend the rest of my life in witness protection?”
“No.”
My shoulders sagged with relief. “Did they find him, then?”
“Also no.”
My shoulders rose back up as my spine snapped straight again.
Hayes cleared his throat. “The FBI raided another one of his drug warehouses this morning—just after sunrise.”
A sharp whistle sounded to my right. My head snapped in that direction, finding Ash coming toward me.
“And Gordon wasn’t there?” I guessed, eyes on Ash. He looked like a bear in this weather. Unruly brown locks, thick beard, and thicker flannel coat. When he was close, he gave me a small smile and jerked his chin to the phone in question.
“Hayes,” I whispered to him.
He nodded and scanned the quad.
Today was Ash’s day.
Unofficially, I’d been assigned to Red Snake security.
After Thanksgiving, the boys had decided it was the best course of action until Gordon was taken care of.
I argued with this, of course. Having Hayes with me was one thing.
Hell, even having the boys make their rounds to the bookstore was acceptable, but all this time and energy…
going to me? It made me feel uncomfortable, especially knowing how extensive Red Snake’s client list was.
Still, none of them would hear my side. Grayson and Carrie didn’t have to say anything.
They just stared at me, silently reminding me of everything they’d been through.
Dominic didn’t say anything either. He’d just lingered in the corner, watching me with an intensity that had the hairs on my arms rising.
Sometimes, I had to admit, the dude scared the living shit out of me.
Ash told me he’d never forgive me if I didn’t let them do this, that he wasn’t going to let anyone else get hurt on his watch.
I knew he was referring to that woman—the preacher’s wife.
He blamed himself, and I didn’t have the strength to argue with the dread in his eyes.
Jake threatened to spoil the end of our favorite book series for me, which I argued was impossible.
Then he did his usual Jake thing, pushed his glasses up to the top of his head, raised his brows, and shocked the hell out of everyone in the room.
“I hacked into the Pentagon in high school because I was bored, then accessed Parliament’s records on a dare.
What makes you think I can’t hack into our favorite author’s computer and find out the ending? ”
“Ash with you now?” Hayes asked, pulling me back to the present.
“Yeah, he’s here with me.”
“Good, I need you to brace for what I’m about to tell you.”
Ash looked down at me, and I held his eyes as I said, “Give it to me.”
“The FBI found copious amounts of Nightwalker in this warehouse, baby. This may turn into something bigger than we anticipated.”
My lips parted. “Oh fuck.”
“Exactly.”
Ash’s eyes flashed with fury, but he kept quiet. In fact, he didn’t speak much at all when he was on “duty” with me.
Swallowing my fear, I asked. “So what happens now?”
“Now, Ash will drop you off at my place, I’ll come home and cook us dinner.”
“Hayes—”
“There’s nothing you can do. There’s nothing I want you to do. The only thing I want you to do is focus on school and work. The boys and I have this. I’m in constant communication with the FBI while they handle this case.” He paused. “I need you to trust me, Margo.”
“I do,” I whispered back, tucking the phone closer to my mouth. “I do trust you.”
“I’ll see you at home,” he promised, his voice warm.
“You don’t have to walk me up, Ash,” I grumbled, pulling my bags over my shoulder as he shifted his truck into park.
“Yes, I do,” he said gruffly, getting out of the vehicle.
Without waiting for him to come around, I opened the door and slid down.
When my Docs hit the pavement of the parking garage, the sound echoed through the late afternoon.
A yawn left me. “I don’t know how I’ve been handling all these commutes,” I muttered to myself, closing the door with my hip.
Ash walked ahead of me, scanning the parking level as I trailed behind him, searching for my keys.
Hayes’ apartment didn’t have a key. It had a key fob that you held up to the doorknob.
It was positively stupid. I hated the damn thing.
It was clunky and messed up the turtle key chain pattern I’d been working on for years.
“Any plans tonight?” I looked up at Ash, smirking.
“Working on your case.”
I blinked at his profile. “What are you going to be doing?”
“Searching for Gordon.”
My eyes nearly popped out of my head. “I thought the FBI was handling that.”
“They are.” He looked at me. “I’m just searching in the places they tend to overlook.”