Page 102 of Whistleblower

“Thank you, Callen.”

“You’re welcome,” he says. “But for what?”

“For helping me decide. I’m with PALADIN as long as you guys will have me. I won’t bother with that interview.”

Callen lifts his glass to me. “Good girl. Glad to hear it.”

I flinch slightly and wrinkle my nose in discomfort. Oh no. No, no. Good girl? That only sounds good when Linc says it.

* * *

Thanks to the brisk walk home, my mimosa buzz has dissipated. They were by far the best mimosas I’ve ever had. Callen talked me into the chicken and waffles, and for that alone he will go down as a hero in my book. They were divine. The drinks, the food, the atmosphere… It was all superb and I really wanted to share it with Linc. Mark my words, if it’s the last thing I do, I’ll find a way to make him love breakfast foods again.

I lackadaisically tap my fob against the sensor to unlock my door, still in such a blissful mood. So blissful in fact I almost miss the hairs rising on the back of my neck when I enter my apartment.

I’m like a bloodhound as I sniff the air, catching a whiff of something foreign. It’s not a bad smell, just…new? Like a man’s deodorant or aftershave, mixed with a musk that is definitely not Linc’s. I mentally rack my brain for the housekeeping and maintenance schedule this week as I shut my front door and begin flipping on my apartment lights.

The smell is all throughout the apartment. I set my purse on the kitchen island and fish out my phone. Someone was definitely here—

I hear the gun cock the very same second that I register the cool metal brushing against my temple.

No, Eden, someone is still here.

“I’m going to need you to put that down.” The smell is stronger than ever as the bone-chilling, crackly voice of my intruder sounds from behind me. His hand, covered in a leather glove, wraps around my throat, but he doesn’t squeeze. It’s a warning.

I’m completely still as the terror washes through me. The fear is like taking a straight shot of whiskey. The burn begins on my tongue then slips down my throat. It brews a fire in my chest cavity before melting in my stomach. All I can do is wait it out. Wait for the bitter swell of agonizing dread to slowly permeate into my blood.

Just when I feel like my knees could give out, she enters the scene—my rational brain. I step back to whimper in the corner while she takes the reins.

Calm down, Eden. Calm is what will get you through. Breathe. Deep breaths. If he wanted you dead, you’d already be dead.

Ignoring my hammering heartbeat, I follow directions and speak as calmly as possible. “I’m putting it down.” I place my phone on my kitchen island face down and slowly put my hands in the air.

He lowers the gun from my temple and takes a step back. I turn around slowly, so slowly, like I’m trying not to provoke an agitated blood-thirsty bear. My heart drops another floor when I see his tall, thick frame. There’s no chance I’d survive a physical struggle. He’s literally twice my size. I’m not fast enough either. He could shoot me at least three times before I got to my lipstick taser in my purse.

But what’s encouraging is that he’s in a ski mask. All I can see are his dark brown eyes.

A mask is good, Eden. He doesn’t want you to see what he looks like. He doesn’t plan on killing you.

Trying to control my shaky breath, I say slowly, “I have to pee.”

“What?” he grunts out.

“I just had several drinks and you have a gun pointed at my face. I’m scared,” I explain. “Unless you want us both to be standing in my urine, you need to let me use the bathroom.”

I press my lips together so they don’t tremble.

“Fine,” he grumbles and then points toward the bathroom with his gun.

I take the ten paces down the hallway, hyperaware that his gun is pointed at my spine. He doesn’t have to kill me to paralyze me. After following me into the bathroom, he closes the door, cutting off my escape. “Be quick about it,” he barks.

Fuck.

“I need privacy. I can’t pee with you—”

He turns and glares at me. “I’m not leaving you alone, so figure it out.” I clasp my hands together to control the shaking.

Breathe, Eden. Calm. Calm is survival.

---