Chapter 34 #2
“Don’t do it.” Trevor shakes his head, nostrils flared as he looks between me and Tucker. “Don’t you dare do it.” His jaw sets. “I’ll kill you and make it look like an accident.”
Tucker shoots him a smirk. “Don’t even try.
” His next move is swift and sudden. He scoops me up, carrying me in his arms bridal style.
There’s a wicked grin on his face as he turns toward Trevor.
“I’ll tell Mom the only reason this makes you so upset is because you’re sad you don’t have anybody of your own to carry around.
” Tucker turns away, easily carrying me through the building while Trevor yells after us.
“Fuck you, Tuck. You’re an asshole.”
I peek over Tucker’s shoulder at where Trevor stands, fuming, our lunch bag clutched in one hand. “What is he mad about?”
Trevor gets mad about a lot of things, so it’s not shocking to see him upset. I just can’t quite figure out what it is he’s got his panties in a bunch over this time.
“He’s afraid all the women here are going to suddenly find him completely irresistible.”
I’m so distracted by the unexpected meeting and Trevor’s upset, that my mouth works all on its own. “I don’t think that’s a realistic concern for him to have.”
Tucker barks out a loud laugh, the sound echoing around the hall as he cuts through Titus’s team’s section of the building. “Don’t tell him that. We're all having a real good time pissing him off.”
I pull my attention away from where Trevor is now stalking behind us, focusing on Tucker’s face. “Don’t be too hard on him. He is really fucking stressed out.”
At first I thought it was just his state of existence. That Trevor was always stressed out over everything. That he liked it. Thrived under the circumstances and conditions.
But the more I see that grumpy facade of his slip, the more I’m starting to wonder if that’s not the case at all. I don’t know what the case is, but technically, it’s not really any of my business.
“Being stressed out is fine. It’s being an asshole that he needs to get over.”
Tucker takes a hard right turn, carrying me into one of the dimly lit rooms where the coders work.
This particular room is set up with a screen at the front that can be used to project a specific monitor as the team works through problems, take video calls, or even watch television shows.
Though I’ve never witnessed them using it for the latter.
But Titus’s team isn’t in here right now. The place is mostly empty. Only a few seats are filled, and I’m surprised at who’s occupying them.
Titus is here—the least surprising of the occupants—but so is Mariah.
Tobias is here as well, along with Brooke.
I can understand three of the four, but don’t know exactly what would involve Mariah.
She’s amazing and brilliantly smart, but doesn’t really have anything to do with McKinley Security Systems outside of the occasional visit to get out of the house and socialize.
Tucker sits me down beside Brooke, carefully lining me into the chair.
He turns as Trevor enters the room, yanking away the lunch still gripped in his brother’s hands before digging into the bag to pull out my order.
He sets it in front of me, making sure I have my silverware set and a napkin before kissing me on the forehead and telling me he’s going to get me something to drink.
I turn to Brooke, who looks as confused as I am. “Do you know why we’re here?”
“Kind of, but why did Tucker carry you in here?” Her eyes drop to my feet. “Oh no. Is it the shoes?”
“Yes, it’s the shoes. Are you a masochist?” It’s the only answer I’ve been able to come up with for why in the hell she would wear these things.
“No.” Brooke almost sounds a little offended, like she thought I was being serious. “I just like to feel fancy sometimes.”
“I do too, but I also like to feel my toes, so we might have to find an alternative.” My eyes snap away from Brooke as the screen in the front of the room illuminates.
I watch, wondering what in the hell I’m going to see. I barely notice as Tucker sets down my favorite diet soda and settles into the seat next to me. Trevor’s a few spots down, sullenly shoving his lunch into his face as Walker finds a spot of his own.
I jump a little when a person populates the previously blank screen, eyes widening as I take the man in. He kind of reminds me of Trevor. Good-looking. Fancy. An air of superiority.
But then someone else joins him, and I find myself wanting to smile because the blonde woman practically shoves him to one side, scooting in to dominate the frame. She grins, the expression revealing a dimple in each rounded cheek.
“Hey guys.” Her eyes lock on to where I’m sitting, widening a little. “Oh shit. That’s Ruth Wagner.”
I lean toward Tucker, keeping my voice low. “Who is this woman, and how does she know my name?”
I must not be speaking as quietly as I think I am, because the woman answers me.
“Super sorry. I should’ve introduced myself.” She sits a little taller. “I’m Heidi. I know who you are because I helped Tucker figure out where you lived when he wanted to track you down.”
I slowly look toward Tucker.
“It wasn’t a bad thing.” She waves a hand in our general direction. “Obviously.”
“Can we focus, Heidi?” Trevor redirects the conversation. “I have shit to do today besides sit here and listen to you talk about how great it is that my brother was a stalker.”
Tucker scoffs, and a second later a half empty water bottle bounces off the side of Trevor’s head.
“I feel so sorry for your guys' mom. She’s got to be a freaking saint.” Heidi sighs, flipping open the laptop perched on the desk in front of her. “I hit you up because I’ve got some information you’re probably gonna want to hear.”
“Information about what?” Tobias asks.
Heidi grins, looking pleased as punch. “Information about your best friends—the dead Dans.”