Chapter Fourteen
Amanda bolted up the flight of stairs, swiped her access badge, and threw the door open.
She couldn’t see straight, couldn’t breathe.
She’d tried to control that awful feeling but couldn’t.
For every second she’d stood there, hot water had risen.
From her feet to her knees to her chest—it squeezed and squeezed and squeezed.
She gasped for another breath, angry her throat had twisted and knotted the air from her lungs. Her eyes closed, and she wanted to believe she wasn’t dying, that this was a simple, stupid panic attack. But the heat?
Rubbing her temples, reminding herself that this was a mind game, she forced her eyes to open. Amanda blinked. Her brain processed. The heat…was the baking sun. There were no fires, no explosions, no places where she couldn’t breathe. None of that was real. At least, it wasn’t right now.
The water tower loomed overhead, and she let its shade draw her closer until she propped herself against a cool cinderblock wall and took in her surroundings. The city. The sky. This was what she needed to see. What she could control.
Her chin dropped. The adrenaline faded, and she laughed. At least she hadn’t kicked him in the crotch. Embarrassed, she massaged her temples again. “What the hell am I doing?” She watched a bird soar above her, then muttered, “Why did I even try?”
A thud echoed from across the roof. A flock of birds took off and then re-landed. The man had come back to the roof. Why did he keep trying?
Amanda didn’t know how to explain her triggers without triggering herself again. And that was assuming she wanted to give him far too much information—which, maybe, she did. This was so embarrassing. She couldn’t let him find her like this.
Before he could pinpoint her location, she crept from the tower and checked to make sure the coast was clear. She didn’t see anyone, and jogged across the helipad, feeling like a hunted deer in an open field.
She took cover by the massive generator units. Their hum would mask her racing breath and footsteps.
“Hey, lady.” The man’s voice carried in the windless sky by the water tower. “You okay?”
Amanda snorted. “That’s debatable.”
“Just so you know.” He laughed, self-deprecating, and seemed closer than before. “I hate being out here.”
Then go away. This was her refuge and retreat.
Why wouldn’t he go away? She’d prepared and protected herself from every possible situation for years.
Except for this man. How had she gone this entire contract without knowing he existed?
A better question might be, how had she gone without feeling the way he made her stomach jump and drop simultaneously?
She waited and didn’t hear him. Relief swelled.
She scanned the rooftop for a place she could compose herself.
Parker or Jared would show up soon. After all, Parker had given the man a direct warning to treat her with kid gloves.
Careful. Titan wanted to protect her, and she’d run onto the roof like a maniac.
Jared would want to have another one of those security discussions…
Amanda maneuvered toward a tiered section and then descended onto a metal ladder.
Although the sun was bearing down, the rungs didn’t burn her hands.
She stepped from the ladder, careful to soften her path through a gravel bed littered with pigeons and thick, corded wires, then stepped onto a metal catwalk that reminded her of chain mail.
Despite its strength, she could see through the walkway.
It quietly clanged with every step, and if she hadn’t been familiar with the bridge that spanned a communication depot of large antennas and dishes, common sense would’ve told her to stay off.
The birds scattered and resettled as she crossed, drinking in the never-ending view.
Her muscles unwound. A steady breeze rolled, and Amanda let it sweep the after-effects of her hysteria.
She eased onto the metal catwalk and threaded her legs between the barrier wires.
Her feet dangled, and she relaxed, safe, and so very high in the sky.
This was the kind of gusty day and beautiful view that could erase the worst of bad days.
Every bird froze. In unison, their heads twisted and swiveled, and the mystery man appeared at the top of the ladder. If she hadn’t been seated, her legs would’ve wobbled. He looked on top of the world, big and broad as a gust tousled his thick hair. Sunlight bathed him in gold.
Her heartbeat strummed in her ears, and the impulse to run melted away. Amanda gave a small wave. “Found me.”
“Only so many places to look.” His eyebrows knit, surprisingly not in judgment or irritation, but closer to concern. “You okay?”
She wrapped her arms to her stomach and focused on her knees. “You’ve had to ask me that a lot.”
He waited until she faced him again. “I’m not sure you’ve given me a straight answer.”
She laughed to herself, then admitted, “No.”
“I appreciate the honesty.” The corner of his mouth twitched. “Even when you’ve been evasive.”
“It’s a talent.”
He glanced at the tiers and ladder, then into the wind.
Amanda wondered what was going through his head and if he’d decided that he’d had enough with her shiftiness.
She didn’t blame him. His frown grew deeper.
She bit the inside of her cheek, preparing herself for him to leave, then he descended the ladder.
Her stomach fluttered but she didn’t know how to explain herself. The impact of his gaze scared her, and she threw an arm toward the sky. “I needed a little alone time. Just me and the birds.”
“I get that.” His footsteps crunched on the pebbles. Pigeons fluttered. Their little heads swiveled between the two humans. “And, trust me, if I didn’t have a reason, I’d leave you to hang with the birds.”
The back of her neck tingled. “What’s your reason?”
“That’s a hell of a question.” He rested a foot on the metal catwalk and gripped the railing. She expected a lecture about the consequences of rooftop falls. But he didn’t start in on her. He crossed his thick arms over his broad chest. “You know your way around out here?”
She shrugged. “Do you?”
“No.” He shook his head. “I avoid it at all costs—unless we get to fly drones and crash plants.”
“I’m not doing either.”
“Or, if I need to check on someone.”
Amanda bit her lip. “You don’t have to check on me if that’s your reason. I know my way around.”
“Actually.” He paused as though he understood the power of patiently letting time slip by.
He lifted his palms slightly. The corners of his lips curled.
“I don’t care if you do or don’t.” He stepped farther onto the catwalk.
The metal walkway shifted under his heavy weight, punctuating the placid stillness that came hundreds of feet in the air.
Halfway onto the metal platform, he arched his eyebrows and whistled.
“You sure know how to pick a secluded spot.”
They were above a pit of antennas, but at the right angle, the building’s edge seemed as though it were only feet away instead of the semi-safe distance of several yards. “You can go back inside,” she said.
“Then I couldn’t tell you my reason.” He drew closer on the catwalk.
“Bet I could guess.” She fidgeted.
“Actually, it’s more like a question.”
She could guess that too. Are you crazy? Are you insane? What’s wrong with you?
“I want to know,” he said. “Why aren’t you okay?”
She hadn’t expected that one. Amanda bit her lip. “It’s complicated.”
“I like complicated.” The metal grates groaned when he took another step. He eyeballed the catwalk and made a funny face, then added, “I like puzzles. It makes me good at my job.” He held up his palm. “I won’t say another word about work. Even though I know you’re dying to ask what I do.”
She laughed.
“Nope.” He shook his head. “Don’t be cute. I’m not gonna share.”
Her smile almost ached. “I’ll try to contain myself.”
“Try.” He winked. “For my sake.”
The wind picked up again. Goosebumps prickled across her skin as if Mother Nature wanted to make sure Amanda realized her senses had reached a state of hyper-awareness. But with him only three feet away, she needed exactly zero reminders of his presence.
He crouched to eye level. “If I scared you, I didn’t mean to.”
“You didn’t.”
He nodded to himself. “I don’t intentionally say things to make you want to run.”
Amanda grimaced. “It’s a bad habit.”
“Fight or flight?” He pressed his lips together. “That’s a gut-level reaction to keep you alive. Not a bad habit to have in your arsenal.”
She side-eyed him. “You don’t have to pacify me either.”
He chuckled. “Mind if I sit?” He didn’t wait for an answer and swung his legs under the barrier like hers. “I don’t want to pacify you either, and I mean, you take fight or flight to the extreme—”
She groaned. This was almost as bad as talking to her mother about robots and agitated elements.
“But, I’d rather have you knee me in the nuts than run up here.”
Her chin snapped up. “That’s insane!”
He lifted his muscular shoulder. The move tightened the cotton T-shirt across his chest. “I’d take a little pain any day over you hauling ass toward the roof, upset.”
Her heartbeat stopped dead. The blood drained from her face. “You thought I’d jump?”
“It doesn't matter what I thought—”
“Yeah, it does.” Bile churned in her stomach.
“Oh my God. I’m an idiot.” He’d shown up so she didn’t swan dive off the roof.
Just like Jared would’ve. This guy didn’t want to chat an arm’s length away.
He wanted to be able to grab her if she decided to end it all.
Amanda reached for the railing to pull herself up.
“Thanks for checking on me, but I’ve gotta go fix the cameras you broke. ”
“I bet you don’t know about the third F?”
She stopped before she reached her feet. “What?”
He extended two fingers. “There’s fight, flight, and…”
She hesitated, more curious than she let on. “And?”
“Freeze.”