8. Chapter 8
Chapter eight
Dax
Ireally was a goddamn idiot. I was an idiot for letting her wash those dishes the first night we met.
I was an idiot now, for offering to help her.
I was definitely a fucking idiot for giving her the job at the restaurant.
It was like any time she was in the room I lost every cool, collected thought in my brain.
The delicate features of her stunning face, those perfect curves that her hoodie and yoga pants couldn’t hide—those fucking yoga pants…
Those beautiful eyes that looked the exact same color of gold when the sun breaks over the horizon.
I couldn’t stand to see the way those eyes glistened when she cried.
I barely knew the girl, but for some reason seeing her face break into tears ignited fierce protectiveness inside me.
I never wanted to see her look like that again, and I would do anything in my power to stop it from happening.
Even if that meant letting her work at this godforsaken restaurant.
Even if that was the stupidest idea I could ever have thought of.
Watching that security footage with her lit a wrath inside me I hadn’t allowed myself to feel in a long time.
Those fuckers kidnapped a girl right under my roof.
They assaulted her. And now Lucy was taking it upon herself to seek revenge for her friend.
I admired her ferocity, but unfortunately, I knew all too well what kind of risk was involved with what she wanted to do.
I couldn’t just let her go at it alone. Not without protection. Not without me.
The rage may have clouded my judgment, but I couldn’t let something like that slide when it happened in my own restaurant.
The place I had worked so hard to build, to make a home.
Her skin-tight yoga pants had nothing to do with it, even though they invoked a primal desire inside me that I needed to suppress.
She was off-limits for so many reasons that I didn’t want to count.
She only came back because she needed my help, and I vowed to give it to her.
She was about to be my employee, for fuck’s sake.
I couldn’t allow myself to think about her in that way.
Not how those beautiful eyes, fringed by dark lashes, sparked with anger when she watched the footage.
Not the stubborn, infuriating way she left me standing at that bus stop the other night.
One would think after what happened to her friend, she’d be a little more concerned about the dangers of public transportation. I needed to do something about that.
It was already nearing midnight by the time she left the restaurant, but that didn’t matter. The person I needed to call didn’t live by a nine-to-five schedule. I didn’t either, but that was beyond the point.
Ricky and Bianca had already moved along to their next stop of the night, so I had the place to myself at last. I was thankful for that because the conversation I needed to have was one I’d rather keep private.
I dialed a number already saved into my phone, and my hand clenched against my desk as I rewatched the video feeds on the monitors.
He answered on the first ring. “I had a feeling I’d be hearing from you soon.” Emile’s Brooklyn accent was much thicker than anyone I knew here, and a pang of familiarity beat in my chest.
“You really thought it would be a good idea to send him here? In the middle of my Friday night dinner rush, no less. What the hell were you thinking?” I couldn’t contain my agitation.
“Hold your horses, asshole. I didn’t tell Clay to drop by your restaurant, that was all his idea.
” Emile took a deep breath through the phone.
“It’s been almost three years, man. We can’t keep CIPHER up on our own, and there’s been some shit going down around here we could really use your help with.
We have our own lives too, but that never seems to matter to you. ”
Heat settled over my skin. This wasn’t how I was hoping this little chat would go.
I’d told Emile a hundred times I didn’t want to be involved with field work anymore.
I didn’t want to be involved on the backend either.
They were perfectly capable of running things on their own, and if they didn’t want to, then they could stop.
It didn’t matter anyway, no matter how much evil they tried to eradicate from this world, more would spawn somewhere else.
That was the way the world worked. I just couldn’t do it anymore—not after what happened.
At least, that was how I felt until Lucy left twenty minutes ago. It was too close to home. It reawakened something inside of me I had been trying to keep at bay for a long time. Specifically, something I had tried to leave behind in New York when I moved to San Francisco Bay.
“I need a favor,” I said. I wasn’t calling him so he could try to convince me to go back. That was never gonna happen. That part of my life had burned to the ground with everything else that night in Miami.
“Are you fucking joking?” I could picture the look on his face as annoyance blasted through the phone. “Here I am telling you we could use your assistance, and now you’re telling me—”
“If you can’t even do this for me, why the hell should I even consider coming back?” I spat through the phone.
Emile paused before answering, “What the hell do you want, Dominic?”
“I’m converting some feeds from my security cameras at the restaurant into a file that I’m about to send to you. I need you to clear up the image quality for me and the audio. Also the plates of the SUV in the last frame.”
“What the fuck did you get yourself into now, asshole?” I could tell Emile was frustrated, but I’d piqued his interest.
“I think when you watch the footage, you’ll understand why I’m asking you to do this.” My voice didn’t waver.
He’d do it for me. I knew he would. Emile was a nosey motherfucker, and he loved a challenge as much as Clay did.
As much as Tony had. The footage would be child’s play compared to some of the stuff he was capable of, but that wasn’t the only reason I was confident he’d do it.
He was a good man, and everything he did was for the sake of being good.
It was the reason CIPHER existed in the first place. It was why we all did it.
Beyond that, Emile had always been closer to me than Clay.
He tried his best to keep in touch with me after I left my life in New York behind.
I’d pushed him away, but he was relentless.
I humored the occasional drink under the clear agreement he wouldn’t bring up CIPHER.
Instead, we were forced to small talk about the restaurant and his multiple businesses.
“I’ll take a look at it,” he responded shortly, just like I knew he would. I didn’t waste time thanking him before I hung up the phone.
It didn’t matter what I told Emile, or even what I told myself.
By getting involved with Lucy’s vendetta, I was already dipping my toes right back into CIPHER’s waters.
I wasn’t ready to admit that to myself yet, though.
The beast stirred inside me, and I knew it was only a matter of time before it clawed its way out.
When that happened, I hoped nobody stepped foot in its path.
I stared down at my phone. I was even less thrilled about the prospect of contacting the next person on my list. I typed out a message and pressed send.
Me: I need an overwatch. Lucy Conrad—early 20’s. Brunette.
Breathtakingly hot. I didn’t type that, but I thought it.
Me: Currently on the Muni 8.
It shouldn’t have felt as natural as it did sending that message despite all the time that had passed.
Did I even have the right to do this anymore?
Beyond CIPHER, Clay’s entire business revolved around the best private security service money could buy.
The most elite people in the world used his services—both above and below ground.
This wasn’t just his hobby. It was his profession. I thought about it and then added:
Me: 24/7.
I waited for a moment, not sure if I would get a reply. There was a chance he wouldn’t respond, but I had a feeling he would.