That part confuses me.
“How do you know all this?”
Fadden smiles slightly. “I told you,” he says. “I have an inside man.”
I study him for a moment. He knows more than he should. And it makes me slightly suspicious of him.
“It’s not really a good day to be a member of the Russian Bratva,” Fadden adds, his tone light. “This is good for us, though. They’re destabilizing. Making mistakes.”
He’s right. This is good for us. But it doesn’t feel like a win.
“You don’t think it’s all slightly suspicious?” I feel the need to ask. “None of this feels stable.”
He tilts his head slightly. “That’s the point.”
“For you, maybe.”
“For us,” he corrects. “We’re on the same side, remember?”
Are we?
The question lingers in my mind. Maybe it’s because I was abducted and very nearly killed. But it feels like every angle and every wall is out to get me. And suffocate me.
Fadden watches me, something creeping into his expression.
“You alright?” he asks.
My reply is automatic. “Yes.”
He doesn’t look convinced. “You know you can come to me if you need help, right? I’ve got a big shiny FBI badge and a gun I know how to use. I could help you, Lindsay.”
I offer him a small smile. “Thanks, I appreciate that. But I can assure you, I’m fine.”
He pauses for a beat. And then I see him let it go.
“Okay. Things are moving in our favor,” he tells me. “That’s what matters.”
I nod in agreement. But I still can’t shake a feeling of foreboding.
The feeling follows me throughout the day. Even after having dinner, I still can’t shake it. I think it’s the silence in the penthouse. It’s gnawing at me. Eventually, I can’t take it anymore.
I exhale a soft breath before getting out of bed and heading to the closet. I grab running shoes and change into leggings and a tank top. I throw a jacket over it before heading down in the elevator and outside the hotel, my car keys in my hand.
I’m searching for the valet to bring my car from the underground parking lot when I feel a presence behind me. Two presences, actually.
I turn around. And despite the fact that I know they’re here to protect me, I feel threatened all the same. I’ve barely interacted with my bodyguards. I saw them briefly this morning before they blended back into the shadows. I’m a little annoyed that they’re not staying there.
“Ms. Beaumont,” one of them speaks. He’s a little lean but tall and built with a beard and dark brown eyes. They didn’t give me their names, so I’ve been calling them Crater and Boulder to differentiate. “It’s a little late.”
My eyes go a little wide and I let out an amused scoff. Them trying to control my movements was not part of the deal.
“Yes, and?” I question.
Boulder speaks now. He’s huge with dark skin and surprisingly kind brown eyes. “Ma’am, we feel the need to advise against you leaving the hotel.”
“I’m going to the park nearby. For a run,” I state, my tone making it clear that they will not be able to stop me.
They share a look and I can see them come to the same conclusion.
