"Did she ask you questions? Personal questions?"
"She asked if my name was Scandinavian. I told her my parents are into Norse mythology." Dalla's frown deepens. "Why? RJ, what's going on?"
"Did she say anything else? Anything at all?"
"She said..." Dalla trails off, her face going pale. "She said she had a feeling we'd be seeing each other again."
Feck.
Feck, feck, feck!
"Stay here." I'm already moving toward the stairs. "I need to talk to your father."
"RJ, wait—" She grabs my arm, forcing me to stop. "Tell me what's happening. Please. You're scaring me."
I look at her—this woman I love, standing in my t-shirt with sleep-mussed hair and fear in her eyes.
She deserves to know.
She deserves the truth, even if it terrifies her.
"There's a trafficking organization operating in this area," I say quietly. "Your father's club took down their front man a few months back. But the real leader is still out there. We thinkthey've been watching the compound, gathering intelligence. The camera I found in the woods, the sedan—it's all connected."
Her face has gone white. "You think this woman—Sol—is part of that?"
"I think it's too much of a coincidence. A stranger approaches you, makes deliberate contact, studies you, says she'll see you again?" I shake my head. "That's not random. That's a well thought out plan."
"Oh god." She presses a hand to her stomach, and I notice she looks pale. Paler than just fear would account for. "Oh god, RJ. I didn't know. I swear I didn't know."
"I know you didn't. That's why I need to tell your father. We need to figure out who this woman is and what she wants."
"I'm coming with you."
"Dalla—"
"No." Her voice is firm despite the tremor in it. "You said you wanted me to be your partner. That means I don't get to hide in the basement while you handle things. I'm coming."
I want to argue.
Every protective instinct in me is screaming to lock her in this basement and not let her out until I've eliminated every threat within a hundred miles.
But she's right.
She's been right this whole time.
"Fine," I say. "But you stay close to me. And after we talk to your father, we're having a conversation about you ever leaving this compound alone again."
"Fine."
We stare at each other for a moment—stubborn, angry, scared.
Then she crosses the distance between us and wraps her arms around my waist, pressing her face into my chest.
"I'm sorry," she whispers. "I wasn't thinking. I just needed to breathe, and I didn't want to wake you, and I thought?—"
"I know." I hold her tight, feeling some of the anger drain out of me. "I know. Just... please. Don't do that again. I can't protect you if I don't know where you are."
"I won't. I promise."
