Adate.
"Do you have any suggestions?" Since I've pretty much stayed only at Titus’s house since coming to Wyoming—with only the odd adventure to his brother's place or his parents’ home to break it up—I’m clueless about where we could go. He might be just as clueless as me since he hasn't frequented this area in years, but I'm hoping he at least ordered food from somewhere good.
"How about—” His suggestion is cut off by the ringing of his phone blasting through the speakers. A glance at the console identifies the caller as Trevor.
With a sigh, Titus taps the screen to connect the call. "Hello."
"I need you to figure out what the fuck is going on." Trevor sounds stressed. Granted, that seems to be his normal state of existing, but today he sounds even more wound up than normal.
"What's going on?" Titus turns out of the parking lot for the doctor's office, his movements smooth and easy.
"I don't fucking know. That's your job. All I know is your team is freaking out because something is going on and they can't get a hold of you."
Titus glances down at his silenced phone. "I was busy."
"You're never fucking busy. Why are you busy?" Trevor gets louder. "I need you to figure out what's happening."
Titus glances my way, letting out a sigh. "Fine. I'll be there in fifteen minutes."
There’s silence on the other end of the line. After a few beats, Trevor says, "What? Where are you going to be?"
"At the office. Make sure someone lets me in." He ends the call, reaching across to take my hand in his. "Can you wait a little bit for lunch?"
"Absolutely." I give his hand a squeeze. "What do you think is going on?"
Another deep breath and long exhale. "Fuck if I know, but I'm getting real tired of it."
Titus’s estimate of how long it would take to reach the office is dead on, and fifteen minutes later we’re pulling intothe parking lot of a sprawling campus. I didn't really have an idea what McKinley Security Systems would be like, but even if I did, it sure as heck wouldn't have been this. Multiple buildings are connected by what appear to be enclosed walkways. The design is modern and sleek… almost sexy. Definitely fitting for a company owned by the Bradshaw boys.
The parking lot is huge, but Titus directs us straight to the front, slotting the vehicle into a spot marked with his name. I stare up at it. Does he leave his house more than I realized?
"I've never actually parked in this." He climbs out, closing the door before coming to collect me. "Tobias usually parks whatever he's driving sideways across both our spots."
I let Titus help me out, glancing at the empty spot marked with Tobias's name. "Not today?"
"He probably ran home to let Copper out on his lunch break. If he leaves her alone all day, she pees inside one of his shoes in retaliation."
I snort a little as we reach the front doors. There's a scanner beside them, but we don't have to worry about it because Trevor is already opening one to let us inside.
If I thought he sounded stressed over the phone, helookseven more stressed. With quick steps, he leads us through a two-story entryway. His suit is impeccably tailored and perfectly pressed, but his hair is mussed, likely from the way he keeps running one hand through it.
“Perfect timing. We just got a call. Someone wants to talk to you."
Titus angles a brow, but doesn't seem to have any sort of reaction outside of that. He’s certainly not getting as hyper as his brother. "Someone wants to talk tome?"
"Yeah, and you're not gonna fucking like what he has to say."
Trevor leads us into a tunnel connecting the buildings. We come out the other side into an area that seems quieter than the one we just left. A few more steps and he's letting us into a darkened room. The lights aren’t off, just turned down low. Possiblyin an effort to make it easier for all the people staring at computer screens to not go blind. A large, almost movie theater-sized screen dominates one wall of the room, and a group stands in front of it. The man displayed on the screen is wickedly attractive. In a fancy, businessman sort of sense.
He's got dark hair, a custom suit, and an almost snobby demeanor. Not mean, he just seems like he likes—and is very used to—the finer things in life.
Titus stops when he sees the screen, his brows dropping as he finally starts to look a little stressed. Keeping his hand in mine, he leads me straight to the front of the room, situating us in the center of the group as he greets the man staring at us.
"Pierce." He shakes his head. "Gotta say, I'm not super excited to see you."
26
Titus
