Chapter 29
Chapter
Twenty-Nine
WINDER
Adam gave us a part-time location, and nothing else. If his past was to be repeated, he would run and squeal to whoever he knew about our visit.
This wasn’t the worst thing in the world. I wanted Conrad to know we were onto him. I wanted him to know we weren’t afraid of him. Maybe I had been at one point, but not anymore. Part of me wondered if I had Blaire to thank for that.
The next morning, Blaire and I sat on my bed, bouncing ideas off one another.
“I’m guessing going to the police is completely off the table now?” Her voice was unsteady. The idea of the cops made her nervous, even today.
“I don’t know where Conrad has reach. I think for right now we’re on our own, at least until we can pin him for something solid. He’s sneaky that way. Besides, we have no proof he was the one who had you followed.”
“It’s all well and good barging into Circuit, guns blazing, but we don’t even know what we’re getting into.
We’re working off assumptions.” Blaire curled her knees against her chest. “That memory I had of you was the first clear thing I’ve remembered in ages.
I couldn’t tell you anything about the night he died that supposedly changed everything.
I don’t remember Oliver at all. I don’t remember Conrad.
I couldn’t tell you what I saw, or who I saw, or anything.
Maybe Conrad has every right to come after me. ”
“Do you really think that?”
“No. But what if he has a good reason? I can’t remember anything, so maybe I did something really fucked up, you know, even before my… dreams.” She wanted me to tell her she was wrong. “Or maybe Oliver did?”
I didn’t even have to lie. “Blaire, I really doubt that. You’ve done some messed up things, but you’ve had your reasons for it.
I can’t imagine you did anything without a good reason.
Remember, you both were undercover. You both were the good guys.
We just have to figure out what Conrad knows that we don’t. ”
She sighed, relaxing with my words. “Okay. But still. We can’t show up knowing nothing.”
“So we have to figure out how to get you to remember.”
“You sound like my psychiatrist.” She stuck her tongue out, and froze. “Wait.”
Blaire tapped her fingers on her knees, and I watched her think.
“There might be something…” she started.
“Tell me.”
“My psychiatrist was useless most of the time, which I understand now, but she did have me keep a dream journal. I wrote down everything I could remember from my dreams. I never bothered reading it back, because it was just a bunch of violent nonsense. But maybe you could make sense of the places, or the people.” A grimace crossed her face. “I know it’s not a lot, but…”
“No, I think that could work. That’s definitely something. Is it at your house?” I already plotted out how we could get the journal as quickly as possible, because I knew Conrad had to have someone staking out her house.
Another frown. “Normally, yes. But I put it in my work bag to bring to my appointment, and then in the chaos of the day, I forgot my bag.”
Okay. Small hiccup. We could work with this. “Where is it then?”
“At work, under my desk.” Blaire’s eyebrows creased together.
“What are we waiting for? Let’s go.” Even if Conrad had someone posted at her work, they probably wouldn’t be there this early. I didn’t understand the problem, and was already heading for the door. When she didn’t follow, I turned to see her still sitting on the bed.
“Winder, I’m supposed to be sick. Should I really just be showing up at work with some random guy? What if they see I’m not actually sick?” Blaire twisted her hands in her lap. Fuck. Despite everything that had happened over the last few days, she was still worried about losing her goddamn job.
I crossed to crouch next to her. “Baby, it’s barely six in the morning. I doubt anyone is going to be at work except for security, and if they do see you, we can just explain you’re starting to get back on your feet, and want to start catching up on things. Right?”
The hand twisting stopped, and she nodded. “Right.”
When I rested my hand on her jaw, she leaned into my touch. “Let’s go.”
This time she followed me out the door, and into the early-morning fog.
“Car, okay?” I asked. “I’d rather not waste more time than we have to.”
“Absolutely.”
Wanting to be prepared for anything, I had parked the car closer to the house. I didn’t know if we needed it for a getaway, or to confront Conrad quickly, but I wanted to be ready either way.
Because it was so early in the morning, I was able to park without much trouble, and rushed to open Blaire’s door before she could get out herself.
She took a deep breath, fluffing her hair. “It’ll be fine, right?”
I smiled, trying to give her as much confidence as I could spare. “I promise. It will be fine. We’ll be in and out before anyone notices.”
Without another word, she smiled at the security guard, who waved us in. Unsurprisingly, the lobby was empty, as well as the elevator ride up to her floor. Blaire shifted her weight from foot to foot, eyes darting everywhere except at me.
I hated how nervous she felt she needed to be.
I wanted to wipe all of her anxieties away with a brush of my hand, a kiss, a sweet word or two.
None of that was realistic. Blaire had experienced trauma for long before this, and her anxiety was always going to be a part of her.
As much as I wished I could take it away so she didn’t hurt, I would never wish for her to be any less than she was now.
I grabbed her shaky hand, and brought it to my mouth for a kiss right as the elevator dinged. “I love you,” I murmured.
Blaire finally met my gaze. “I love you, too.”
The elevator doors swung open, and Blaire led us to her cubicle, where she began sorting through a black bag on the floor.
Her work space felt just as much of a contradiction as the rest of her.
A filing cabinet had a neat organizer on top of it, sorted by colored tabs and last names.
But the desk in front of her laptop was strewn with papers, covered with images and lists.
“Got it.” She held up a small black notebook, and I turned away from the hastily scrawled list. “I normally bring my work bag home with me, but I must have been so tired…”
“It’s okay.” I pulled her to me and kissed the top of her head. “Now let’s get home, and we can sort through this, see if there’s anything we can use.”
“Blaire?” a deep voice interrupted us.
A tall man with perfect light brown hair stood just outside the cubicle.
“Duke.” Blaire’s shoulders were tight again, and she gripped the notebook for all she was worth. “You’re here early. I thought you didn’t get out of bed before your second espresso.”
I didn’t like Duke, if only from Blaire’s tense voice. More than just that bothered me, though. Everything about him was too perfect, from his coiffed hair to his shiny shoes.
When he smirked at Blaire, I liked him even less. “And I thought you were sick.” The word dripped with condescension, and I took a step forward before I knew what I was doing.
“Watch yourself,” I muttered.
Duke turned his attention on me, running a bored glance down my dark clothes, obviously finding nothing worthy of his time. “Did you find yourself a nice little guard dog, Blaire? And here I thought you could handle yourself.”
Blaire smiled, but not one bit of it was friendly. She picked up her black work bag, obviously done with the conversation. “Hopefully I’ll be back at work soon. I’m sure Harry won’t mind waiting for that promotion since I’ve been so sick. Especially since my only competition was you.”
She moved to step past Duke who blocked her exit. He snapped out his hand as she passed, grabbing her arm. “I told you before not to mess this up for me. And I meant that. You’d do a lot better to know your place, and accept defeat now, Blaire.”
There was no way for me to control my anger, with how he touched her, how he spoke to her, how little he thought of her. When I pushed him away from Blaire, surprise caused him to drop her arm. He staggered backward into the cubicle wall which shook with his weight.
When he righted himself, his eyes filled with fury. I smiled. I knew he was too fucking perfect.
Perfect people always hid something. Blaire hid her trauma, her anxiety and fears. Duke hid a temper, now brought to the surface.
“That wasn’t a smart idea,” he snapped.
I met him where he stood, eye to eye. “Does it look like I care? You don’t touch anyone like that, but you especially don’t touch her like that.”
“Winder, I’m fine,” Blaire piped up.
“It’s the principle, baby.” I didn’t look away from Duke’s furious eyes, churning with a darkness and an anger he hid behind too much cologne and a perfect suit.
“You know, I thought I only had to deal with people like you in my neighborhood. It’s not as hidden there.
People tend to wear their true colors on their sleeve.
I’m realizing now that’s not the case. You just get to hide your rot behind money. ”
“Say that again, scumbag, and we’ll see who’s really the scary one.”
I grinned. “You sure you want to do this? I can’t promise I won’t mess up that pretty face of yours. A shame, because it’s probably the only thing you have going for you.”
Duke’s nostrils flared, and he clenched his fist. I thought for sure he would swing at me, but before he could, another man interrupted us.
“Duke, good, you’re here.” The man barely looked up from his folder to check out the situation happening in Blaire’s cubicle. “Oh, Blaire. It’s good to see you back on your feet.”
“Actually, I’m just here to grab my laptop to catch up,” she said. “Not quite back to full health yet, but I don’t want to get too far behind either.”
“Great thinking. Hopefully we’ll see you back at the office in a few days.”
“Hopefully, Harry. It’ll be good to be back,” Blaire responded in a voice slightly too high for her own.
“Good. Good. Duke, since you’re here, you might as well help me go over these mock-ups before our 8am.” Harry turned back down to his papers and walked away.
Still simmering with a cool anger, Duke glared at us as he walked away with the older man.
I smiled, and gave him a wave, before touching Blaire’s shoulder. “Let’s go. For real this time.”
Blaire heaved her bag up on her shoulder, and tossed the small notebook inside.
“You really shouldn’t have agitated him, Winder.
I wasn’t hurt. Duke is just a cocky asshole, used to getting his way.
But he comes from money, and now you’re on his radar, he’ll do his best to make your life miserable. ”
Stuffing my hands in my pockets, we walked back to the elevator. “We’ll see. I have a feeling he’s all bark, no bite.”
“Still.” The elevator doors closed, and she rolled her eyes at me. “The pissing contest probably wasn’t necessary.”
I lost my humor, and looked at her with every emotion I had. “You mean everything to me. The least everyone else can do is respect you. And if they can’t do the bare minimum, I can’t be held responsible for my actions.”
Blaire smiled, almost as if to herself. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”
I could’ve given her a thousand reasons for why I didn’t deserve her. I could’ve written manuscripts, entire novels, songs, and maybe even a poem or two. I could, but two words summed it up just as well.
“You’re you.”