CHAPTER 5
NO SAFE PLACE
The rain had returned by the time they left the studio.
It started as a fine mist against the windshield, barely visible beneath the streetlights, then thickened as Adrian drove away from the Loop.
Mara sat in the passenger seat with her laptop bag at her feet and Naomi's notebook tucked securely inside her coat.
She kept thinking about the file.
The case reference.
Three years.
A network.
Graham Voss.
None of it fit neatly enough to make sense.
She hated that.
She preferred messy truths to unanswered questions, but there was a point where uncertainty stopped being interesting and became frightening.
She glanced at Adrian.
He drove with both hands on the wheel, eyes moving between the road and the mirrors.
"You aren't going to tell me where we're going?"
"Gold Coast."
"That's not exactly specific."
"It's specific enough."
"You're impossible."
"I've heard that."
"From me."
"Among others."
She looked at him.
"You have friends?"
"One."
"One?"
"Marcus."
"That explains a lot."
His mouth twitched.
Mara smiled.
Then the silence returned.
She watched the city slide past.
Chicago after dark always looked more beautiful in bad weather.
Streetlights reflected across wet pavement. Apartment windows glowed above restaurants and storefronts. Cars moved through intersections beneath a curtain of rain.
Everything felt warmer from inside the car.
Safer.
She wondered how long that feeling would last.
"Are you taking me to a hotel?"
"No."
"A safe house?"
"No."
"A bunker?"
He looked at her.
"Do I look like I own a bunker?"
"You look like you have a bunker."
"I don't."
"Disappointing."
"It's a secured apartment."
"Yours?"
"No."
"Whose?"
"Company property."
Mara nodded.
"Of course."
They turned onto a quieter Gold Coast street.
The buildings here were different from River North.
Older.
Elegant.
Expensive.
Stone facades rose behind iron gates. Trees lined the sidewalks, their leaves mostly gone now. Rain darkened the pavement and ran along the curbs.
Adrian pulled into an underground garage.
Mara looked around.
No pedestrians.
No traffic.
No obvious cameras.
"How many exits?"
"Three."
She turned.
"You counted."
"Yes."
He parked.
"Stay here."
Mara sighed.
"You're going to say that every five minutes, aren't you?"
"Probably."
He got out.
She watched him walk through the garage.
He checked the elevator entrance.
Then the opposite corridor.
Then the stairwell.
He returned.
"Okay."
Mara opened her door.
They took the elevator upstairs.
When the doors opened, they entered a quiet hallway with thick carpeting and soft lighting.
Adrian unlocked the apartment.
Mara stepped inside.
She stopped.
It was beautiful.
And completely impersonal.
Cream walls.
Dark furniture.
Large windows overlooking the city.
A kitchen that looked like nobody had ever cooked in it.
No photographs.
No clutter.
No books.
No plants.
Nothing that suggested anyone lived there.
"This is depressing."
Adrian shut the door.
"It's secure."
"I didn't say it wasn't."
She walked farther inside.
"This place looks like a luxury apartment designed by someone who hates people."
He took off his coat.
"You'll be comfortable."
"That's debatable."
He looked around.
"Bedroom is there."
"Bathroom?"
"Across the hall."
"Kitchen?"
He pointed.
"Coffee?"
"Kitchen."
"Good."
Mara walked toward it.
Adrian followed.
She opened a cabinet.
Empty.
Another.
Plates.
She opened the refrigerator.
Water.
Milk.
Eggs.
Fruit.
Yogurt.
She turned slowly.
"You stocked this."
"Marcus did."
"Yesterday?"
"Today."
"How did he know what I eat?"
Adrian hesitated.
"I told him."
Mara stared.
"What did you tell him?"
"Coffee. No sugar."
She looked at the refrigerator again.
"Anything else?"
"Greek yogurt."
She turned.
"You remembered."
"I remember details."
"Apparently."
She closed the refrigerator.
"That's unsettling."
"Why?"
"Because I don't remember telling you that."
"You didn't."
She stared at him.
"Then how?"
"Lena mentioned it."
Mara laughed once.
"Of course she did."
She reached for the coffee.
"Do you want one?"
"No."
"Why?"
"I've had three."
She looked at him.
"You count those too?"
"I count everything."
"That sounds exhausting."
"It can be."
Something about the answer made her pause.
There was no arrogance in it.
Just truth.
She made coffee.
Adrian moved toward the windows.
Mara watched him inspect the locks.
"Do you ever enjoy a view?"
"When it's safe."
"You really need to work on that."
"Probably."
She carried her mug into the living room.
He was standing near the window.
The city stretched below them.
From this height, the streets looked distant.
Small.
Manageable.
Mara wondered if that was the illusion wealthy people paid for.
Distance from the ground.
Distance from consequences.
Distance from everyone else.
"How long do I have to stay here?"
"Until we know who sent the message."
"So you have no idea."
"We have an idea."
"That's not the same thing."
"No."
She sat.
"How long?"
"At least tonight."
"Tomorrow?"
"We decide in the morning."
She looked at him.
"You make decisions like everything is a security briefing."
"That's because most decisions have consequences."
"So do mine."
"I know."
"Then don't make them for me."
He held her gaze.
"I'm not."
"You're telling me where I sleep."
"Because someone may be watching your apartment."
"You're telling me I can't go to the studio."
"Because someone may be watching the studio."
"You're telling me I can't contact Naomi."
"Because we don't know if her phone is secure."
Mara set her mug down.
"Do you hear yourself?"
"Yes."
"Do you realize how controlling that sounds?"
His jaw shifted.
"I realize how it sounds."
"Then why do it?"
"Because right now, keeping you alive is more important than whether you like my methods."
She stood.
"I don't need you to keep me alive."
His expression changed.
"Yes, you do."
The words landed harder than she expected.
She stared at him.
Adrian seemed to realize it too.
He looked away.
Mara folded her arms.
"That's exactly the problem."
"I know."
"You don't get to decide what I need."
"No."
"Then don't."
He nodded once.
"Fine."
The answer surprised her.
She had expected another argument.
Instead, he walked toward the kitchen.
Mara watched him.
"What are you doing?"
"Checking the security panel."
She followed.
"That's your response?"
"Yes."
"You're just going to stop talking?"
"When talking stops being useful."
She almost laughed.
"You're unbelievable."
"I've heard that too."
She shook her head.
The tension between them eased slightly.
Later, after they had gone through the apartment's security procedures, Adrian explained the rules.
No unexpected visitors.
No leaving alone.
No posting her location.
No contacting Naomi without clearing it first.
If something felt wrong, she called him.
Mara listened.
"That's it?"
"For now."
"What happens if I break one?"
"I'll know."
She looked at him.
"That isn't an answer."
"It is."
She rolled her eyes.
He almost smiled.
The evening settled around them.
Rain streaked the windows.
Mara sat on the sofa with her notebook while Adrian worked at the dining table.
She tried to concentrate.
She couldn't.
The room was too quiet.
Every few minutes, she looked up.
Adrian typed.
Read.
Made a note.
Checked his phone.
Typed again.
He seemed built for silence.
Mara wasn't.
"How long have you been doing this?"
He looked up.
"Security?"
"Executive protection."
"Fourteen years."
She frowned.
"That's a long time."
"Yes."
"Do you like it?"
He considered the question.
"I like being good at it."
"That's not what I asked."
"No."
She smiled faintly.
"You really don't make this easy."
"What?"
"Talking to you."
"I talk."
"You answer."
"That's talking."
"Not really."
He leaned back.
"Why do you want to know?"
She shrugged.
"You're keeping me alive. I'd like to know something about you."
His eyes rested on her.
For a moment, Mara thought he might refuse.
Instead, he said, "I like quiet."
"I gathered."
"I like old jazz."
Her eyebrows lifted.
"Really?"
"Really."
"I wouldn't have guessed."
"What did you guess?"
"Classical music."
"No."
"Country?"
"No."
"Heavy metal?"
He looked at her.
"Seriously?"
She laughed.
"Okay. Fine."
He almost smiled.
"I also like good coffee."
"That's disappointing."
"Why?"
"I thought you might have some secret hobby."
"I do."
She leaned forward.
"What?"
"I repair old watches."
She blinked.
"You're kidding."
"No."
"Why?"
"I like understanding how things work."
Mara looked at him for a long moment.
"That actually makes perfect sense."
He returned to his laptop.
"What about you?"
"What about me?"
"What do you like?"
She thought.
"Books."
"Obviously."
"Music."
"What kind?"
"Depends."
"On?"
"Who I'm trying to avoid."
He looked at her.
She smiled.
"Mostly alternative."
"That makes sense."
"Why?"
"You use sarcasm when you're uncomfortable."
She stared.
"Was that an insult?"
"No."
"An observation?"
"Yes."
She looked down at her notebook.
"You're very observant."
"It's useful."
"Again."
"What?"
"Your job."
He was quiet.
Mara looked up.
"Does it ever get personal?"
"No."
The answer came too quickly.
She noticed.
Before she could respond, his expression changed.
He looked toward the hallway.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"Adrian."
He stood.
"Stay here."
Mara sighed.
"There it is again."
He walked toward the door.
She followed anyway.
He checked the peephole.
Then the electronic security panel.
Nothing.
He returned.
"False alarm."
"What did you hear?"
"Elevator."
Mara stared.
"You heard an elevator from here?"
"Yes."
"How?"
"Building is quiet."
She shook her head.
"You are strange."
"Probably."
It was after midnight when Mara finally went to bed.
She changed into an oversized sweatshirt and soft sleep shorts she had packed in a hurry.
She stood in the bedroom doorway.
Adrian was still in the living room.
"You're not sleeping?"
"Later."
"You've been saying that for hours."
"I'm working."
"You can't work forever."
"I can try."
She looked at him.
He was sitting in the chair beside the door.
Not the sofa.
The chair.
Positioned so he could see both the hallway and her bedroom.
Mara understood.
He was guarding the door.
She swallowed.
"Adrian."
He looked up.
"What?"
"Do you ever stop?"
His expression softened.
"Not when someone is counting on me."
Something moved inside her.
Not attraction.
Not yet.
Something quieter.
Something she didn't have a name for.
She nodded.
"Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Mara."
She stepped into the bedroom.
Behind her, she heard the lock turn.
Click.
The sound should have made her feel trapped.
Instead, standing in the dark room with rain tapping against the glass, Mara realized she felt something she had not expected.
Safe.
And that frightened her more than the threat.