“I don’t like the idea. We have no idea what his capabilities are,” I argued.
“For the next two days, while Duke and Winston are on Zamora, we don’t have a better choice. Protection or apprehension, the choice is yours, unless you want to take two days off watching for the target.”
I definitely wasn’t a fan of that option. “If he’s armed, I guess he could handle protection alongside Pete. I’d rather not have him out chasing the target, because when we catch the bastard, O’Connor will want the cops to whisk him away.”
This asshole had threatened Peyton. He didn’t deserve a comfy jail cell with cops who would leave him alone as soon as he asked for a lawyer. No, I’d teach him what terror felt like.
“My thoughts exactly,” Lucas agreed.
I sauntered to Pete. “That Boston PD detective is coming by to interview Peyton, and Lucas wants us to utilize him for additional protection.”
He didn’t look up. “Sure. Whatever.”
I leaned against the desk. “Hey, you all right?”
He looked up. “Lucas thinks I’ve lost it, doesn’t he?”
That was too loaded a question to answer. “What makes you say that?”
“I saw Xavier again yesterday.”
“Again?”
“Yeah, second time. I ran after him but he gave me the slip.”
“Xavier?”
His eyes connected with mine. “Clear as day.”
“Hey, man. You’ll catch him next time.” I patted him on the shoulder before I left. Xavier died in Syria over a year ago.
Peyton
I caughtmyself as my head bobbed down, almost falling asleep. I was at my desk outside Grace’s office, working on the spreadsheet for the Orgoron family project, and the numbers swam on the screen, making them illegible.
I hadn’t slept well after Zane had left me last night for his stint on guard duty. My thoughts had ping-ponged between ecstasy and terror. Reliving recent events, including the explosion and fighting with the three hooligans the Strangler had sent after me, put me into a cold sweat as I realized how close I’d come to being abducted.
To counteract those morbid thoughts, I’d imagined being in Zane’s arms again. That had worked, until I drifted off to sleep and the nightmares woke me again.
In the end, I’d gotten very little actual sleep.
I finished my second coffee of the morning. A few minutes later, it was close, but I caught myself before my head actually hit the desk.
God, that would be embarrassing. I could see it now. “How did you get this cut on your forehead?” the emergency room nurse would ask.
“Oh, I fell asleep while typing into a spreadsheet because my boyfriend kept me up most of the night.” Nope, not going there or trying to explain my nightmares of being captured by the Boyfriend Strangler.
Then my phone dinged with another face from Jordy for me to check.
Sooner or later the face would be the one I saw in my nightmares, but this wasn’t it.
ME: No.
I really hoped it was sooner. With a firm grasp on the desk, I heaved myself out of my chair. Damn the bladder consequences, it was time for coffee number three.
The coffee machine did its thing and spat the steaming liquid into my mug.
“Tired?” Zane asked. He’d followed me into the break room. Like a guard dog, he didn’t let me out of his sight for even a second. A week ago, that would have bothered me. With all that was going on now, it was a comfort.
