11. Samson
SAMSON
Delaney doesn’t go home.
I know it before the message comes through.
Most people leave my house in predictable ways. They return to what they understand. Reestablish distance between this place and what they perceive as safe. Convince themselves that whatever they felt inside the Vexley walls was their imagination.
Delaney’s smart enough to know the difference between real and imaginary.
Still, I give it time.
Five minutes.
Ten.
Fifteen.
Then my phone buzzes once against the desk.
She’s headed to the marina. Alone.
Something sharp settles in my chest. It’s not anger. Not really. It’s not fear for her. Nothing will ever happen to her as long as I know where she is.
I set the phone down and stand. Time to go. And this time I take my black SUV.
I find her car in a nearby lot and get eyes on her entering a bar a few blocks away. I wait a few minutes and then park across from the bar.
The SUV blends into the dark without effort. From here, I can see the front of the bar. The door. The windows. Anyone going in or out.
And her.
She’s inside, standing at the bar. She leans in slightly, body angled forward, attention fixed.
She’s talking to the bartender. Hank. I remember him. And he damned sure remembers me.
Hank pulls his shoulders in and looks out the window. I know the moment he spots the SUV. His muscles tense and he narrows his eyes.
He won’t see anything through my tinted windows.
Good.
He should be nervous.
I tap my fingers against the steering wheel.
I should go in.
I should end this now.
I should pull her out before she crosses a line she doesn’t understand.
But I don’t move.
Not yet.
Even from here, I can see the rhythm of it. She’s asking questions. Pressing him. Pushing.
She doesn’t seem to have any fear at all. That’s going to get her into trouble.
A couple minutes later, something shifts. Hank looks past her again. His posture changes. It’s subtle, but I notice. I’ve been trained to notice everything.
And worse? I feel it too.
I don’t take my eyes off the bar as I reach for my phone. “Who else is out here?” I say quietly when the line connects.
A pause.
Then—
“No one we placed.”
I tighten my grip on the phone. “Confirm?”
“We’ve confirmed. No assets in that area.”
Fuck. Who the hell else is watching Delaney? Damned good thing I followed her here.
She turns then. She sees me. Rather, she sees the SUV.
For a moment, she just looks. She doesn’t rush out the door. Instead, she turns back to Hank and continues their conversation.
This woman does not fold under pressure. She adjusts to it.
A few minutes later, she comes out.
Her pace is steady. She walks in an even rhythm that doesn’t match the tension I can see in her shoulders.
She feels it now. And she’s careful not to hurry. Not to draw attention to herself.
Good.
I watch her walk toward the lot where she parked.
A few minutes later my phone buzzes with a text.
She’s safely in her car. Looks like she’s heading home to her place.
Good, I respond. Keep eyes on her and make sure she gets there safely. I won’t be far behind. Call if her route changes.
Then I step out of the SUV and cross to the bar. Hank straightens when I walk in.
Too late.
“You talk too much,” I say.
He blinks rapidly. “I didn’t say anything that—”
I raise a hand. “You said enough.”
He snaps his mouth shut.
I hold his gaze for a second longer than necessary. “Next time,” I say, “you don’t answer any questions at all.”
He nods quickly. “Yeah. Yeah, I got it.”
I don’t look at him again.
I step back out into the night. But I don’t go home.
I go to her.
Her building is quiet. There’s no real security. No meaningful deterrent. Anyone who wanted access wouldn’t have to work very hard for it.
That’s going to change.
I bypass the front entrance without slowing. By the time I reach her door, I already know she’s inside. I hear faint movement on the other side.
I knock once.
Footsteps. She’s checking me out through the peephole. Already I know she’ll open the door for me.
She does.
She’s still in the same clothes. Hair slightly out of place from the wind. Eyes sharper than they were when she left my house.
That tells me everything I need to know.
I don’t ask to come in.
I don’t need to.
I step inside.
She lets me.
Not like she has a choice, but she doesn’t yet know that.
Her place is smaller than I expected. It’s warm and homey. A guy could get comfortable here way too quickly. I’d best remember that.
I turn to face her. “You were at the marina again.”
She cocks her head. “Again?”
“Yes. Again.”
She crosses her arms. “First of all, how the hell do you know where I was? And how did you know I was there before? Are you having me followed?”
I don’t answer.
“It was you, wasn’t it? In the SUV? Watching me.”
I don’t answer again. I also don’t deny it.
Her eyes flash. “You don’t get to do that.”
I take a step toward her. “I do when you walk into something that doesn’t care if you walk back out.”
“And why should you care what I do?”
Why should I? A good question, and one I don’t have an answer for. Other than she’s already become too important to me.
I drop my gaze for a split second to her mouth. To those full lips I want so badly to kiss.
When I look back up, she’s watching me like she saw it.
I lift my hand slowly and take her wrist, settling my thumb against her pulse point.
It jumps.
She gasps, but she doesn’t pull away.
“This is your second warning,” I say quietly.
I tighten my grip on her wrist. Not enough to hurt, but to make it clear that I’m not fucking around.
She tries to yank her hand away, but my grip is too firm.
Her breath catches.
“Careful,” I say, my voice lower now. “You’re getting closer to things you won’t be able to walk away from.”
She parts her lips. God, what I’d give to shove my tongue between them.
“Maybe I don’t want to,” she says.
She doesn’t understand the dangers that lurk in the darkness. The dangers that lurk around the marina.
The dangers that lurk around me.
Her feistiness grabs hold of me, singes my flesh.
I could close the distance.
Take her mouth.
End this constant edge that’s been between us since the moment I touched her.
I tighten my grip again, lean into her, narrow my eyes.
Then—
I release her.
“You need to stay away from the marina,” I say.
“No.”
“Delaney—”
“No.” She steps toward me. “You don’t get to tell me where I go.”
I grit my teeth. “You have no idea what you’re getting into.”
“Then show me.”
Show her?
She has no idea what’s out there. What could happen to her.
No. Scratch that.
No one is touching Delaney Cross. No one but me.
I look at her.
Really look at her.
She’s already in.
She just doesn’t know how deep it goes.
I curl my hands into fists at my side. “Go to bed,” I say.
She lifts her eyebrows. Clearly not what she expected to hear from me. Frankly, it’s not what I expected to say either.
“That’s it?” she says.
“For tonight.”
Then I turn, walk to the door, and open it. Before I step out, I look back once.
She’s still standing exactly where I left her.
Watching me. No fear at all in her eyes. No confusion either.
That’s going to be a problem.
I step into the hallway and close the door behind me. Then I reach for my phone.
“Any news about who was there?” I ask when my call connects.
“We’re working on it.”
“Work faster.”
I end the call and start down the hall.
Delaney Cross thinks she stepped into my world tonight.
She did.
But she wasn’t the only one.
And whoever else has eyes on her is now my problem.