Chapter 12 Kodiak
Chapter Twelve
KODIAK
I stood outside the ladies’ room where Emma had been for ten minutes. Luke was at the far end of the hallway, near the bank of elevators, and neither of us had moved since she stalked out of her office.
My problem was that I had no idea what to do. I couldn’t call Brenna, not with the pregnancy. Calling Atticus meant Brenna would know within minutes, so that was out too.
That left Gunner.
I grabbed my phone.
“What’s happening?” he answered.
“Emma went to the bathroom ten minutes ago and hasn’t come out.”
“Why?”
“Today broke her.”
“Go in and get her.”
“It’s the women’s bathroom.”
“I’m aware of what a women’s bathroom is, kid. Go in and get her. Carry her out if you have to.”
“It’s not—”
“Are you asking me what to do, or are you asking me for permission to do what you already know you need to do?”
He hung up. I checked both directions and pushed the door open.
Emma was at the far sink, with the water running and a wet paper towel pressed to her face. Her shoulders were shaking, and her eyes were bloodshot from crying.
I didn’t say anything. I leaned on the wall inside the entrance and waited for her to register that someone was there.
“Coleman?”
“Yeah.”
“This is the ladies’ restroom.”
“I noticed.”
“I’m fine,” she said, tossing the towel in the trash and turning off the water.
“I know.”
“You shouldn’t be in here.”
I took two steps in her direction. “I was thinking about dinner and the bathtub you haven’t tried at the house.”
“You came in here to tell me about a bathtub?”
“I came in here because I ran out of things to do in the hallway, and you were taking too long. The bathtub was a bonus.”
“What if someone walks in?”
“Then, they’ll see me as your knight in shining armor. Or the man who won’t let you out of his sight to even use the restroom. Either way, I end up looking fairly good.”
The sound she made in response was more of a laugh than a sob. “Or they’ll call security.” She looked in the mirror and wiped the smudged mascara from under her eyes. “I’m a mess.”
“Everything that could go wrong did. You’re not a mess.” I took two more steps. “You had a day. Let’s go home.” I held the door, and she stopped next to me.
“Thank you.”
“Thank me by going home with me before anyone else decides they need something from you.”
She went first. I caught up in the corridor and put my hand on the small of her back. She didn’t lean into it, but she didn’t pull away, so I left it there.
I waited while she packed or put away what was on her desk, then grabbed her coat.
Once in the car, Emma shut her eyes before I’d cleared the parking garage. I left the radio off and drove.
The forty-minute Beltway drive gave me time to think over what Luke had laid out earlier in Emma’s office.
Whoever had built the monitoring system had top-secret admin access to the security department’s servers.
That was Derek’s department, which meant his credentials and his people.
He was also the only person at Treasury with the necessary access level.
But Derek had walked into Emma’s office and flagged the anomalies himself.
A man running a fraud didn’t knock on the door of the person investigating it and hand her the map.
While he was the obvious suspect, my gut was telling me we were looking at the wrong guy.
If I called Alice right now, she and I could talk through my doubts before we arrived in Annapolis.
However, Emma hadn’t moved since we pulled out of the parking structure.
Her head was against the window, and I wouldn’t risk waking her. My call to Alice could wait.
When I pulled into the driveway and killed the engine, Emma sat up and blinked at the house.
“I slept the whole way?”
“You did.”
She rubbed her face with both hands. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I enjoyed the quiet.”
She glanced over at me, and I winked, which at least got a half smile out of her.
I carried her bag inside and set it on the chair at the dining table. She removed her coat and joined me in the kitchen. “What sounds good? Zary left us—”
“I’m not hungry, Coleman.”
I opened the fridge instead. Zary had left labeled containers on the middle shelf. I grabbed one without bothering to see what was in it, stuck it in the microwave, and hit the reheat button. While it ran, I poured two glasses from a bottle of wine that hadn’t been on the counter this morning.
“Let’s eat in the living room,” I said when she started clearing her things from the table. She carried our wine to the other room while I plated our dinner.
She’d taken the far end of the sofa, with her legs tucked beneath her. Both wineglasses were on the side table, hers untouched. I set her plate down and sat beside her.
We ate without talking. She finished most of it, which was more than I’d expected, given she said she wasn’t hungry.
My laptop was in the bag by the front door. I could’ve had it open in thirty seconds and been useful again, and useful was a hell of a lot more comfortable than how I felt right now.
I moved to her end instead and put my hand on the back of her neck. Her shoulders dropped when I pressed my thumb into the knot at the base of her skull.
“Tell me what happened today,” I said.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does.”
“You were there for most of it,” she muttered.
“I was across the hall.”
She didn’t answer right away, so I continued kneading her sore muscles. If she needed an hour before she was ready to talk, she’d get it.
Turned out all it took was a couple more gulps of wine to get her to open up. Once she had, she didn’t stop.
The more she told me, the worse it got. All I could think was how much I wished we could have a do-over so I’d know not to leave her side, not to watch from my desk as her day turned to hell. I could’ve fixed half of what she described inside of five minutes. Next time, I would.
“You know what? Fuck it.” Her voice cracked. “Let whoever it is keep the money. Brenna can’t handle the stress because of the baby, and I can’t deal with someone wanting me dead on top of everything else.”
She didn’t mean it. We both knew that. She still needed to say it to get it off her chest.
“Tomorrow, I’ll do better,” I said, pulling her close to me.
Her fingers curled into my shirt and held on. “Why did you say you’ll do better?”
“Because I’m more than a bodyguard, Emma.”
“I know that. But…”
“I can make your days easier, and that’s what I intend to do. Now, come with me.” I led her down the hall to the master bath.
The tub I’d mentioned to her in the restroom was deep enough for two. Whoever owned the house before me had spent money on it, and in three years, I’d never used it.
Emma removed her clothes and let them drop to the floor. On the island, she’d stripped in front of me like a dare. Tonight, she was too exhausted for seduction. I got undressed and stepped in first, then offered my hand. She took it and lowered herself into the water with a wince she tried to hide.
I sat behind her, pulled her against me, and wrapped my arms around her waist.
“This is lovely,” she said, resting her back against my chest.
Taking my time, I bathed her, starting with her hair, then gently washing every inch of her. She practically purred.
I tried to push away thoughts of what anniversary would occur this weekend and how I’d react.
Typically, I’d retreat into myself, drink too much, and fall into a depression that took me days to recover from.
But if I did that this year, Emma would add me to the list of people who needed her.
What she needed more was a break from everyone who did.
“The water’s getting cold,” I whispered, wondering if she’d already nodded off. When she jerked away, it confirmed she had. “Let’s get you into bed.”
I got out first, grabbed a towel, and wrapped it around her before getting one of my own.
Once Emma was under the blankets, I lay with her until I was certain she was out, then eased myself out from under her and went into the kitchen.
Her phone was on the counter. I scrolled to Mom and pressed call. It rang three times.
“Emma?”
“It’s Coleman.”
“Is Emma all right?”
“She’s asleep. Rough day.” I leaned on the counter. “The architect meeting tomorrow—she can’t make it. She won’t tell you that, so I am.”
“Why not?”
“Because telling you no isn’t something she knows how to do.”
“She can say no. She did earlier.”
“Did she, or did she put you off?”
It took her several seconds to respond, and when she did, she admitted I was right. “I suppose I can handle the meeting on my own, then get Emma’s opinion once the architect gives us a proposal.”
“Sounds like the right way to handle it.”
“Thank you, Coleman. Take care of her.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I set the phone down and returned to the bedroom.
Emma had rolled to the middle of the bed, with her arm stretched out as if she’d reached for me. I eased in beside her, and she shifted so her head rested on my chest.
My right hand was six inches from the nightstand beside me, close enough that I could open the drawer. I didn’t. Tonight was about Emma. Not me or the pain the contents of it brought me.
Tomorrow, I’d have to think about it. Until then, maybe being next to Emma was the thing I needed to help me sleep on a night when I rarely did.