Chapter 14 Liev
LIEV
I’m early.
Because I miss her.
The thought irritates me the second it surfaces.
I barely know her. A handful of conversations, and a kiss that replays too vividly in my mind for comfort.
I’d hoped that somehow the time we spent apart this week and weekend would lessen the pull I feel.
I don’t like it. This obsessive compulsion to see her, touch her, make sure she’s okay.
But it didn’t lessen. If anything, the less I saw of her, the more obsessive of a freak I became. The only things that kept me from pulling one of Alex’s stalkerish moves this weekend was helping my mother and pretending to give a shit at my father’s funeral.
Every glimpse of Sera across the room, her dark brows knit in concentration as she watched Elite’s training videos—which I have to admit weren’t as asinine as I expected them to be—had me itching to go to her.
Brady is already here, pacing the room and checking his watch. I can’t tell if it shows his lack of faith in his sister and me to do the job, or if he doesn’t like how close he knows we will be.
I smirk. He’d be a lot more pissed if he knew the things I’d imagined doing to his sister.
“You’re early,” he says flatly.
“So are you.”
He grunts, unimpressed
Brady checks his watch again. “She’s late.”
“She’s not,” I say calmly.
His head whips toward me, but the buzzing door interrupts him, and Sera enters.
Something inside me eases at the sight of her.
Her mouth lifts but when she gets closer, Brady opens his mouth ruining her happy expression.
“You’re late,” he says.
She stops dead in front of him. “Chill out. I’m exactly on time.”
Vincent chooses that moment to arrive, cutting off whatever Brady was about to say. Sera turns away from her brother and steps closer to me instead, lowering her voice.
“Trying to be the teacher’s pet?” she murmurs.
I flip her off without looking at her.
She smothers a giggle and flips me off right back. Brady scowls, but it’s the man introduced to me last week as Rhodes that speaks first. He leans back from the desk where he was using a laptop and calls out, “Is that what the kids call flirting these days? Because it’s super weird.”
Brady whirls on him. “Mind your fucking business.” He says at the same time Sera says, “Fuck off.”
Rhodes laughs and goes back to his computer.
Brady glares at both of us, his jaw ticking before he launches into last-minute instructions. It’s completely unnecessary, but I pretend to listen. Standing rigid next to me, I can feel Sera’s patience thinning.
When Brady emphasizes professionalism again, his gaze cuts sharply to me.
Sera exhales through her nose and reaches for her hair, gathering it up with quick, practiced movements. Her sweater lifts, revealing a stretch of golden skin and a holster nestled in her waistband.
It’s so fucking hot. Blood rushes to my cock, and I school my face instantly. The rest of my body is slower to fall in line.
Brady freezes, expression arrested in surprise.
For a second, I think he’s clocked my incredibly unprofessional reaction to a few inches of his sister’s bare skin, but I quickly realize that he’s staring nonplussed as she secures the ponytail with a rubber band.
Sera catches it. Her head turns, eyes locking with mine, her eyebrows meeting in confusion.
“What?”
For a heartbeat, the world narrows to her. All I can see is her sparkling eyes and pretty face.
“Nothing,” Brady says abruptly, rubbing his jaw.
The action gives him away. I realize it’s the first time in my presence Sera has pulled her hair up. Exposing all of her scars.
“We’re—just—let’s move.”
My heart swells. I understand what he doesn’t say.
A few times when I saw her last week when she was with people she’s close to, her hair was pulled up much like it is now.
But the second a client came in, or an operative she wasn’t as familiar with approached, she would immediately pull it loose so that it hid her face.
I’m not sure if it’s a conscious choice she makes or if it’s just an instinct to guard herself.
But that she did it now—without thinking—has something clutching in my chest that I’ve never experienced before.
“If you’re done, we should go,” Sera says.
“I just refreshed the bags in the SUV, so you should be all set,” Brady tells us.
“Thanks.”
Brady hesitates, like he wants to say more—wants to demand that we not leave, that he’s canceling the job—but he just nods.
“Check in when you land.”
“We know the drill, Brady.”
I’m impressed at how even she keeps her voice because I can see the temper sparking in her eyes.
“Right.” His lips pinch. “Be careful. Stay alert.”
The advice is for both of us, but the look he’s giving communicates that the warning is meant for me. I resist the urge to roll my eyes. So dramatic.
Sera reaches for her roller bag, but I get to it first. Setting her duffel on top, I shoulder my duffel and grip the handle of my bag.
“I can do that,” she snaps.
“I know,” I say, not slowing as I stride away. “You can get the door.”
She huffs but doesn’t argue further, falling into step beside me as we reach the SUVs. Sera wrenches her bag from me and throws it in the back with too much force, and it thunks next to the bags we’ll be taking on the plane.
Elite’s preparedness for disaster is something I’m not used to, but if—when—I return to my life, I plan on incorporating some of their ways. Emergency medical supplies, including everything from sutures to blood clotting agents, would come in handy.
“We’re equals in this,” Sera says through gritted teeth. “Both professionals.”
“I know.”
“It’s bad enough my brother is treating me like I’m fragile—”
“That’s not what I’m doing,” I cut her off. “But if you think you’re ever going to carry your luggage when it’s just the two of us, Seraphina, you can think again.” I give her a heated look, letting some of what I feel show.
I’ve been holding back. Not wanting to rush her. Needing her to trust me.
But that ponytail was the green light. The signal I’ve been waiting for.
It’s time for the next phase of my plan.
The private airport is already busy when we pull in.
The jet belonging to Atelier Florian sits waiting on the tarmac, small and sleek, with the stairs down.
A slender man in a polo shirt and pants is standing watch at the base of the steps.
The security we are replacing, I assume.
Even through the windshield, he looks exhausted, and there is a definite look of relief before he masks it.
When Sera reaches up to pull her hair loose from the rubber band, I want to reach out to stop her, already missing the view of her profile.
We get out, and I move to open the back of the SUV, lifting our bags and carrying them to the base of the steps. I hand off the larger bags to the ground crew to be loaded below, while Sera introduces herself to the man.
“They’re already on board,” he says.
Sera’s gaze flicks past him to the jet. “They?”
The man doesn’t roll his eyes, but his jaw tightens like he wants to. “Her makeup artist Dani and her PA-slash-stylist Marco.” He gestures vaguely toward the plane. “She likes an audience.”
Sera hums under her breath. No one mentioned there would be others.
“We’ll need to adjust the logistics. Ms. Novak is the primary. Do they all understand that?” She directs the comment to the security guard, who sighs.
“I told them, but I’m not sure they understand what that means—that she’s the client being protected, and they are secondary.”
I shrug. “We’ll explain it further if needed. Any suggestions?”
He exhales, a long, weary sound. “Not really. There hasn’t been any action around her but…” He glances behind him before looking at me again. “She’s temperamental.” The guard dips his chin. “Good luck.”
Sera and I exchange a glance.
“Oh…” He smirks and points at me. “You might want to wear a cup. She’s handsy when she’s drinking.”
He turns, climbs into his SUV, and pulls away without another word.
“I don’t remember that in the training,” I laugh.
Sera glares at me, and as she turns to grab one of the tactical bags, I swear I hear her mutter something that sounds like, “I will cut off the bitch’s hands.”
I do my best to smother a smile, because I seriously doubt Sera will appreciate my amusement at her jealousy.
Sera watches the vehicle disappear, then looks back at the jet.
“Well,” she says, squaring her shoulders. “Ready for this?”
“With you?” I say, meeting her eyes. “Always.”
I wink.
Her cheeks flush, and she shakes her head like she doesn’t know whether to be annoyed or pleased. I decide I like that reaction entirely too much as I reach for the smaller bags and start up the steps beside her.
The jet is configured with wide leather seats arranged in pairs that face each other, in cream and charcoal tones.
A narrow aisle runs down the center toward the back, where a small lounge area and storage compartments sit opposite a compact galley stocked with crystal, bottled water, and a basket of snacks.
Keke lounges across one of the forward leather seats, her long blonde hair cascading over one shoulder. She crosses her legs lifting one high before settling over the other and runs her hands down her thighs as we join them. She knows she’s being watched and enjoys it.
She pats the seat beside her. “Sit here, bodyguard.” She’s looking directly at me.
I don’t miss the way Sera stiffens in front of me, but her step doesn’t falter as she continues toward the back of the plane.
“I’m sorry,” I say evenly, but give her a polite smile. “I need to discuss some logistics changes with Ms. Worthington. We weren’t expecting your friends.”
Keke’s smile widens, slow and deliberate. “But, Mr. Bodyguard,” she purrs, voice dropping just enough to carry, “how exactly do you plan on protecting me if you aren’t up close and personal?”
I keep my expression neutral. “Sorry.”