“What type of door is it? Sliding? Revolving?”
“Double door with big brass handles.”
Sweeping my cane in front of me, I start walking, the scent of freesia on my right side. Once indoors, I stop and reach for her arm. “Okay, tell me what you see. Use the hands of a clock as a reference.”
“It’s a big lobby. Maybe thirty feet to the elevator at, um, eleven o’clock. The security guard’s desk is behind us at seven o’clock. Another door to the outside at three o’clock that opens onto the side street.”
“Now look around for places someone could hide.” Evianna’s never been stalked before. I need her to understand the potential dangers. A little shudder runs through her, and I squeeze her arm. “Go slow, darlin’. Really think about it.”
Bright sunlight streams from the windows, and her shadow moves around me as she takes a few steps in each direction. “There’s an alcove in front of the bathrooms at two o’clock. The stairwell—right next to the elevator—has a small glass window in the door, so I think someone could probably see out without being seen unless it’s dark outside. If the security guard’s not here, behind his desk. There are two couches off to the left, at nine o’clock. Though, anyone hiding behind them would be visible from the street.”
Holding out my arm, I wait for her to step into my embrace. Fuck. She feels like heaven against me. All soft curves and warmth. Sliding my hand up her back, I find the subtle swelling from her bruises, and she stiffens slightly until I whisper my apologies and shift my fingers lower. “Any time you walk into a new room, look for the exits first. Then, pick out the hiding spots. Know what’s around you at all times.”
“You do this every day, don’t you? I mean…as much as you can?”
Her words sting, but she’s right. Most of the time, I have no idea what a room looks like. Not really. Shapes. Shadows. A blur of color when the lighting’s just right. When I don’t respond, she curses under her breath. “Shit. I’m sorry, Dax. I didn’t mean—”
“What did I tell you about apologizing?” This time, I press a gentle kiss to her cheek. “I know my limitations, Evianna. And no. I don’t like them. But three surgeries didn’t fix me, so this is how I’m going to stay. And to answer your first question…yes. I was trained to do this. Infiltration, sedition, extraction. For almost a decade, this was my life. And even blind, I can’t—and won’t—turn off those instincts.”
“You’re not broken. You don’t need to be…fixed.” Her breath ghosts across my cheek, and, my God, I want to press her against the nearest wall and ravish her. But she has to get to work, and I have to find Kyle.
“Remember your promise, darlin’. And call me when you want to leave.” Before she can say another word, I turn and head for the door, knowing when I get to my office, there’s one very important call I have to make before I do anything else.
The office is quiet. Ella is busy with her cases, Clive is with his mother, and Ronan and Vasquez are off duty. After I make myself a fresh cup of coffee, I pull out my phone. “VoiceAssist, call Ryker.”
He picks up on the second ring. “Is it go time?”
“Calm the fuck down,” I say, the urge to chuckle roughening my voice. The man has the patience of a gnat—unless he’s on mission. “Going a little stir crazy?”
“No.” After a pause, a frustrated growl rumbles over the line. “Maybe. Hang on.” A door closes, and he lowers his voice. “I don’t want to leave Wren. Like…ever. But other than the five hours a day I train at the warehouse, I don’t have anything else to do.”
“Five hours? No wonder fighting you felt like battling a tank.”
Now it’s his turn to bark out what sounds like it might be a laugh. “And I lost, remember? I need to up my game. I just talked to you two hours ago. What’s up?”
“I need you to do something for me.”
“Anything.”
Ryker McCabe doesn’t exaggerate. Or lie. Unless the mission calls for it. If I asked him to jump on a plane right now, he’d do it. Or told him I needed Inara, Sampson, anyone he had out here to help, he wouldn’t think twice. But this…I don’t want to admit how broken I am.
I take a long sip of coffee before I can force myself to spit the words out. “I need to know what Evianna looks like.”
Silence. And then…laughter. A deep, rolling laugh I haven’t heard in more than six years. “I knew it!” Ry says after he gets himself under control.
“If you’re going to haze me over this, I’ll hang up right now. I already feel like shit for even asking.”
That sobers him up. “I suck at this, dude. And does it matter? She’s…beautiful. Dark brown hair, kind of long. Curvy. Probably five-foot-six? Pale skin. She looked tired. So did you. Pretty sure I saw something else too, though.”
“What?”
Ry snorts. “You’re falling for her.”
I don’t respond. How can I? He’s right. Even though I don’t understand it. “I’ve known her three days.”
“Doesn’t matter. Want to know when I started falling for Wren?”
Rubbing the back of my neck, I blow out a breath. “Yeah.”
