Chapter Twenty-Six
“He’s back?” Reyna asked with wide eyes.
Beckham nodded once tersely. “Where’s Penelope? We need to get her out of here, too.”
“She’s not in the back?”
“No.”
“Then I don’t know. She stormed out there like an hour ago and never returned.”
His face darkened. Just then, Olivia and Laura came out of the dressing room, Laura in some poofy monstrosity. Olivia’s eyes widened when she saw Beckham.
“Pack up whichever dress she wants,” Beckham said to Olivia. “We have to leave.”
“Of course, Mr. Anderson,” Olivia said evenly. “Come on, Laura.”
Beckham frowned and glanced down at his phone.
“Did Penny message you?”
“No.” His eyes caught hers again. “Did something happen?”
“Well, it didn’t go well.”
He sighed, pocketed the phone, and nodded for her to follow him.
They had barely entered the back room of the boutique when Beckham pushed her against the wall.
He put his hands on either side of her head and leaned in.
His lips caressed hers, and she breathed into him.
It had only been a couple of days, but she had missed him.
He pulled back abruptly and stared deep into her eyes. There was something off about him, like he wasn’t entirely sure how to act or he was afraid that she might disappear.
She placed her hand on his cheek. “Hey, whatever is going on, it’ll be fine.”
“I want to take you back to Elle.”
“All right. Are you going to tell me what’s up with Everett?”
Beckham turned his head away from her palm, and she let it drop.
No, she had read him wrong. This wasn’t fear or worry.
This was anger. Bristling and spitting right under the surface.
He was trying to control it and not let it erupt out of him.
She was sure it had to do with Everett, but what could Everett have done that would make him this angry?
After orchestrating her kidnapping, there couldn’t be much worse than that.
“Will you go back to Elle?” he demanded instead of replying to her question.
“Becks, look at me.” He finally did, his eyes black molten lava. “I will go back if I have to, but there’s something you’re not telling me.”
“He wants to talk to you,” Beckham ground out.
“What? Why?”
“He won’t say. He won’t say anything except that he has important information and the only person he’ll tell is you.”
Reyna’s head swam with the possibilities. “Do you think he has info?”
Beckham considered for a moment. “I think he’s a threat. He’ll do anything to get close to you.”
“So…you think it’s a trap?”
“That is how it appears.”
Reyna gnawed on her lip. It could be a trap. If Harrington was looking for her, it would make sense for him to use Everett to draw her out.
“What if he does have information?”
“I know a way to get it from him without letting him talk to you.” The sinister glint in his eye said everything he hadn’t—they would torture him until he revealed it.
Reyna hated Everett. She despised his part in all of this. That didn’t mean she agreed with torture. She didn’t want Elle to become the bad guys. She wanted them to be better than that. She wanted Beckham to be better than that.
“I’ll do it.”
“Reyna…”
“Find me a secure location. I can get the information from him. I know that I can.”
He clenched his jaw. He’d anticipated she would want to do it. She liked to take chances. He liked that about her, even if it made his job to keep her safe more difficult.
“He’s going to manipulate you.”
“I won’t forget what he did. Plus, you’ll be there, right?”
His body went rigid, and he shook his head. That was the biggest obstacle—he couldn’t be there. Everett wanted to talk to her, and Beckham couldn’t be there to protect her.
“You won’t be there.”
“I will be there, but I can’t risk him knowing that I’m Elle. He might not know you and Gabe are with Elle, but you two are connected now. We can’t risk him figuring out more.”
“But finding out about you would be worst-case scenario.”
“Undeniably.”
Olivia strode into the back room carrying an enormous white hanging bag before Reyna could respond.
“We chose a winner,” Olivia said, handing it to Laura, who took it and thanked her profusely.
“The first dress?” Reyna asked.
Laura nodded. “It’s perfect.”
“Let’s go,” Beckham said, nodding toward the back door.
They exited into the corridor, then went down in the elevator again to where a nondescript black Mercedes idled.
Beckham turned to Laura. “My driver, Gerard, can be trusted. I’ve known him longer than you’ve been alive. He’s going to take you back and will inform me if anything goes awry.”
“Okay. Where are you going?” Laura asked.
“Business,” he said, gesturing for her to enter the car.
She turned to Reyna. “Please be safe.”
“I will,” Reyna said and hoped it was true.
Laura stuffed the wedding dress into the back seat and crawled in after it.
Beckham knocked on the passenger window. It rolled down. “Gerard, please drive Laura back. Reyna and I will take my ride.”
Gerard put down the historical romance novel he had been reading and nodded at Beckham. “Yes, sir.”
Reyna watched the car speed off. Beckham tugged her close, directing her farther down the darkened garage. She shivered in the chilly temperatures and wished she’d thought to bring the hat and gloves Beckham had given her for the rooftop. Especially once she saw what Beckham’s ride was.
“Is that yours?” she gasped.
He quirked an eyebrow as they approached the sleek black motorcycle. He responded by tossing her a helmet.
“It’s December,” she reminded him. “I’m going to freeze.”
Next, he handed her fur-lined black leather gloves, a black beanie, and a black mask that covered the lower half of her face.
“You knew I would come with you.”
“Do I ever expect you to willingly sit on the sidelines?”
She grinned fiercely as she pulled on everything he’d brought her. Beckham easily secured the helmet’s clasp under her chin. He kicked one leg over the beast and waited patiently for her to work up the nerve to do the same. She’d never been on a motorcycle.
“I will not let you come to harm, Little One.”
She swallowed and swung her leg over. She wrapped her arms around Beckham’s middle, plastering her chest against his back and her thighs against his. She was surprised to find him warmer than she would have expected. She was about to freeze, but this was going to be worth it.
Beckham revved the engine, and the bike jumped forward.
Reyna squeezed tightly as they zipped out of the alley and onto the city streets.
The wind whipped at her masked face. Buildings rushed past her in a blur.
Everything happened in a rush. Her heart leaped in her throat, but her fear quickly melted away.
This was real freedom. No boundaries and endless possibilities.
They could go anywhere. Do anything. Be anyone they wanted.
She wanted to open her arms wide and let the bike carry her away.
When all of this was over and the weather became warm again, she was going to insist he take her out on this every day. Every single day. It was a travesty he hadn’t told her about it before.
When Beckham pulled off of the road about fifteen minutes later, she was shaking and stiff, but she could have done that so much longer.
Beckham parked the bike on the street in front of a boarded-up building and helped her off the back.
When she tugged her mask down, her smile was huge and she was bouncing with energy.
“When do we do that again?” she asked.
“Danger doesn’t just find you. You go looking for it.”
“You put me on that motorcycle. You can’t expect me not to love it.”
He leaned forward, brushing a fang across the shell of her ear. “All I can think about is bending you over it.”
“Well,” she said breathily, “I hadn’t thought of that, but now that I am…”
“Next time.”
He slipped his hand into hers, and they headed off the street through an innocuous black door into the most glorious warmth.
A small entry room with nothing on the walls and only one broken chair in the corner.
She’d been cold on the bike, but adrenaline had taken over.
Now she realized belatedly that she was shaking.
“You brought me an icicle,” Gabe said from the doorway with a grin.
“I may actually be frozen,” she grumbled.
“We should get you warmed up,” Beckham said. His phone rang noisily, and he cursed, retreating to the end of the room to answer it.
“Come on, you,” Gabe said.
He steered her down a hallway and into a cozy sitting room. It was nothing fancy, but it was more inviting than the boarded-up exterior indicated. He set her down in front of an electric fireplace, wrapped a couple of blankets around her shoulders, and brought her some hot chocolate.
“What is this place?” she asked between her chattering teeth.
“Safe house.”
“Oh. I’ve been to one of those before. Are they all this shitty?”
“Helps with the cover.” He winked at her. Typical Gabe. “You ready for this? I know with your history…”
“I’m ready.”
“He didn’t try to talk you into this, right? You came of your own free will?”
Reyna shot him an exasperated look. “If anything, Beckham tried to talk me out of it. Why would you think otherwise?”
Gabe glanced back down the hallway to where Beckham was still speaking animatedly on his phone. “Just wanted to make sure. You can never be too careful.”
“He thinks this is a trap. Am I walking into a trap?”
“We did everything we possibly could to make sure that doesn’t happen.
There’s no bug on him—we made him change clothes and burned his old ones.
No tracker in his skin. We confiscated his phone, and it’s not in the building.
The guy seems legit scared,” Gabe said thoughtfully.
“I’ve seen enough shitbags like this to know when they’re faking it.
And maybe he is, but he doesn’t look like it. ”
“So, you think he actually has information for us? He’s not just trying to get to me?”
“He’s a spy and a good actor. You’re proof of that. I wouldn’t trust a word he tells you, and I’d expect some serious mental manipulation in the process. But…yeah, I think he has something.”
“If I can get it, I will,” she said. She was warm again, so she gave him her empty hot cocoa mug and squeezed his hand.
Gabe motioned for her to follow him. He showed her to a bedroom at the back of the safe house.
“He’s in there. We’re going to mic you so we can hear everything that’s being said. There’s already a video camera in the room. And there’s nothing he can use to hurt you. But if he tries, I’ll be on the other side of this door.”
“Okay.” She swallowed.
“Beckham will be watching from another room, because I don’t trust him not to barge in at the slightest provocation.”
Reyna nodded. That sounded reasonable.
“How did Everett find me?” she asked. “How was he brought here and everything?”
“He didn’t find you. He found me. I guess he did see me that night. He’s been piecing together who I am and finally tracked me down. I nearly blew his brains out when he approached me alone in a dark alley. All I can say is that he seems desperate.”
Reyna quelled her fear. She couldn’t show any to Everett when she walked into that room. It also wasn’t helping her now, thinking through how exactly Everett had been able to track her down.
“All right. Let’s do this.”
Tony, Elle’s resident techie, hooked her up to a microphone. When he was done, Gabe nudged her with his elbow. “Knock ’em dead.”
Beckham appeared in the doorway, and Gabe made himself scarce. “Are you ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
“If he harms you, I will kill him,” Beckham said.
Reyna ran her hands up into his dark hair. “Nothing is going to happen to me.”
His kiss was urgent and chaotic. It made her entire body tremble with need. Her bones ached with desperation. Her lungs burned to breathe him in. She could have gotten so lost in him.
She pulled back. “Wish me luck.”
“Luck is rarely on your side, Little One.” He brushed back her hair. “But I am on your side.”
“Even better.”
She managed to disentangle herself from him and stepped back into the hallway. Gabe gestured that they were ready. She grabbed the handle and pushed the door open.
There sat Everett, on a wooden chair in the center of the room. His hands were handcuffed in front of him, and it looked like someone had already tried the torture tactic on him. He glanced up, and his hazel eyes sparkled at the sight of her.
“You came,” he said earnestly.
She took a deep breath and stepped into the room. Here goes nothing.