“Yeah, there’s that, too.” He snarled.
Cat pointed toward the dining room. “I set your equip bag on the table.”
“Thanks. First I need to call Drake.” Mitch turned and walked away. “See what you can do to make the client look different.”
Chapter Four
Before Liz could ask what he meant, Mitch had already left the room, so she automatically turned toward Cat. “I take it I’m the client.”
“Yes. You are the client. He’s a typical alpha protector.” Cat motioned her toward the other side of the house. “Always remember one thing and you’ll be fine.”
“What’s that?”
“He’s in charge.”
Liz’s first thought—been there, done that…never again. No one had control of her. Not now. Not ever. Birth to college had been enough rules, restrictions, and rebukes. Her second thought told her to keep her mouth shut for the time being. She dutifully followed the woman.
Cat headed down the hallway leading to the door into the lockout room. “Right now, the only thing on his mind is keeping you safe. Next, he thinks about the team. And, finally”—she unlocked the door, pulled it open, then pushed in a few numbers on the keypad next to another door—”if he’s still kicking when the assignment’s over, all’s good in his world.”
The inner door slipped open, and Cat walked inside.
Liz remembered the door had been locked when she arrived a few days ago, just as she had expected. When renters were on property, the room stayed locked, at least that’s what Drake and her father had told her when they all vacationed together at the house during her teens. This was the lockout room of the house, meaning it held everything personal and valuable to the owner.
Watching Cat open the doors with a key and passcode suggested the valuables in this room were a lot more than floats, snorkel gear, or a priceless vase. Being an inquisitive, and sometimes bored, teenager years ago, Liz had drawn out the floor plan of the house one summer. Even took measurements, trying to figure out the dimensions of the lockout room.
The size of the room she’d calculated had insinuated something big must be stored inside. Her mind had run rampant with what could be so valuable and fit through the door. She’d also figured out the room sat in the middle of the house. Had no windows. And, only one way in and out—the door now standing wide open. The one Cat motioned her to come through.
Lockout room? Panic room?
She stepped backward down the hallway, again and again. A quick, heavy load of fear rushed her senses, settling in her chest. Forcing a hard exhale of breath helped clear her mind and stabilize her breathing. This wasn’t the past. Wasn’t a nightmare. These were people sent to help her. All she had to do was stay in the present and follow their lead.
Liz stood in the hallway, shaking her head. “No. I won’t go in there.”
“Why?” Cat asked.
“You’re not going to lock me in. I don’t care how secure you’re trying to make me.” She wished she hadn’t tossed her purse on the chair when they came in, because that mace might have come in handy about now.
“That’s good. You think like one of us.” The woman standing in the doorway smiled. “But if you’re afraid of me, then you should have run the moment I opened the door. Gotten something big between you and me. Something I can’t reach across. Can’t easily jump across.”
Liz took in the advice. Didn’t move. “Drake said trust Mitch. I trust Mitch. Mitch left me in your care. So, I trust you.”
“Good…good thought process. Except, money and power at the right time can make even the most trustworthy turn.” Cat’s tone held a tinge of regret, and she seemed to pause with a memory. Her expression blanked. Then, on an intake of breath, her nostrils slightly flared. She blinked. “By the way, we would never lock you in the panic room. That would be your choice.”
Choice? She hadn’t been given a choice when she was ten. Her dad had simply secured her mom and her in what he called the safe room of their house. She hadn’t liked the idea then. And didn’t to this day.
“I still won’t go in that room,” Liz said.
“Understood.”
Cat disappeared back into the window-less room then reemerged carrying an armload of shorts and tops, skirts and pants, bikinis tops and bottoms. She nodded for Liz to follow her into the bedroom. Once there, Cat dumped the items on the bed then turned back toward the lock-out room.
“What are these for?” Liz asked.
The woman came back with shoes and sandals, plus maxi and mini dresses. “These are a few things I’ve picked up for you. Things to change your image.”
Liz picked up a matching bikini top and bottom then held it against herself. They weren’t as small as the ones she used to wear, but they were still small. “I can’t wear these. In fact, none of this is my style.”
“Exactly. If we change your look, the people looking for you may be thrown off the trail.” Cat leaned against the doorframe and crossed her arms. “Besides, don’t take offense, but your style could use a little updating.”
