“Oh, good.” Sofia reaches into the fridge and grabs an armful of to-go containers. “It must be tough, being so close with people like that and knowing…”
“Knowing what?” I hurry over to take the containers from her.
“What you did, it was so dangerous. I can’t believe I didn’t know. I mean, I knew you were in the Army, but not that you were Delta. That you were doing pretty much the most dangerous things possible.”
“But I’m fine.”
Emotion shadows her gaze. “But if something happened.”
“It didn’t.” I set the containers on the counter. Then I hug Sofia to me again. “And I’m here. Safe and sound.”
Sofia looks up at me. “You are. But it’s scary, thinking about how easily things could have been different. I read things online all the time about men lost in action. Heroes who made the ultimate sacrifice for our country.”
“I know what you mean.” Though Sofia wasn’t in the Army, I almost lost her, just the same.
And the men who tried to kill her are still out there,I remind myself.All this talk about protecting Sofia, and I can’t even catch the asshole who took a shot at her. Or the pieces of shit from the alley and the hospital.
Rationally, I know it’s not as simple as that. We’re in a city of millions of people. Her attackers were wearing masks, so even if I could get a screen capture of one of them, which I haven’t had luck with yet, it’s unlikely I could identify them.
The shooter from yesterday is a different story, though. He may have been long gone by the time we got to the building he took the shot from, but that doesn’t mean I can’t still find him. Given he was in a building filled with accountants and finance managers who’d probably notice if a guy was walking around with a full-face mask, I have a feeling he wasn’t wearing one.
What I think is, he went in disguised as a regular guy, wearing a nondescript suit, carrying his sniper rifle in pieces in his suitcase. He headed up to the roof without notice, found a hiding spot, put his rifle together, took the shot—which, thank God, he missed—and then strolled right back out like nothing happened.
Itwouldwork, if I hadn’t created a program to catch him. That’s what I worked on today—coding a program that uses AI to identify everyone caught on a security camera in the building. Then it automatically runs a background check, specifically searching for red flags like a criminal record or an association with known criminals. Assuming I get a hit, which I’m really hoping I do, then I’ll track down the suspect to investigate further.
“Nico?” Sofia’s face pinches as she looks at me. “Are you okay?”
“Hmm?” I yank my thoughts away from snipers and pieces of shit who think nothing of beating up a woman. “What? Why?”
“Well.” Sofia holds out a glass jar filled with large, whitish-gray eggs floating in it. “I just asked if you wanted one of these with dinner, and you nodded. Which surprises me, because they look absolutely disgusting. And that’s not even considering what’s inside them. So I’m thinking something’s bothering you, and that’s why you weren’t paying attention.”
I grimace at the jar. It’s filled with balut, an egg delicacy from the Philippines. “Wraith,” I sigh. “He thinks it’s funny, bringing over weird foods and gifts.”
“It’s certainly weird,” she replies, eyeballing the eggs with distaste. “Does he always bring gross food when he comes over? Or was it special, just for me?”
Taking the jar, I shove it to the back of the fridge to deal with later. Then I rejoin Sofia by the kitchen island. “Not every time, but enough. And it’s not always gross. He’s brought some decent stuff, too. Like gourmet chocolate from Dubai. Or custom nesting dolls from Russia.”
Her brow wrinkles. “Why?”
“He’s odd like that. Since he traveled all over while he was working for the CIA, he discovered a lot of… strange gifts and delicacies. I always tell him to just bring pizza or beer, but he insists on bringing something unique.”
Sofia makes a littleewface. “I think I’d prefer the pizza, too.” Then she opens the box of cupcakes sitting on the island and takes a red velvet one out. She takes a lick of cream cheese frosting and hums her approval. “Or these. I’d muchprefer these.”
“Me too,” I agree. “I’ll get them for you whenever you want.”
She swirls her tongue across the frosting again. “I won’t complain about that.”
There’s a spot of frosting on her lower lip, just calling to me. Begging me to lick it off.
What if I put frosting on other parts of her body? And lickedallof it off?
My dick twitches. My pants go tight.
“I thought you wanted dinner?” I ask in a strangled voice. “Or are we skipping straight to dessert?”
Her eyes meet mine. The hazel shade darkens to a forest at night. “Maybe dessert first?” Then she extends the cupcake out to me. “Want some?”
Her question is simple. But the look she gives me isn’t.
