Page 55 of Knot Innocent

“Now, don’t you start.”

My head shoots up, realizing what I just said and to whom I just said it. Knot sits across from me, trying and failing to cover a smirk. He clears his throat, regaining some of his formidable bearing. “Care to fill me in on what happened? Why a team leader was forced to abandon his mission because our intel architect went rogue?”

Shit. When you put it like that… “The police needed me to make an appearance to stage an arrest. I didn’t announce my intentions because I knew Bastien would disapprove, but that doesn’t mean I went rogue. I had a police escort from the time I left here until I was delivered home after the suspect was arrested.”

“But not the suspect that put you in the hospital.”

“Look. I see your point, okay? But I was careful. The only time I was alone was when I was locked safely inside my house. You’ll recall it was your people that secured my home. If I can’t be safe there, perhaps you need to reevaluate the contractors you’re using.”

Knot’s eyes widen, but I’m too wound up to stop now. “You know me. I’m not reckless. It’s just that Bastien is a little overprotective. And I’ll tell you like I told him last night. I’ll be careful. I’ll take precautions, but I won’t stop bringing these monsters to justice.”

“Even at the risk of yourself?”

“I owe it to—” I slam my mouth shut, realizing I almost screwed up.

Knot leans forward, casting a shadow over my desk. “You owe it to who? To Amelia?”

He knows. My heart pounds in my chest over my secret being spilled, and I worry about how Knot might see me now. “Bastien told you?”

Knot leans back, waving away the accusation. “He didn’t have to. You got in trouble for accessing the sex offender database at fifteen. A friend of yours was killed by a child predator. It wasn’t hard to connect the dots. It took my people about five minutes to figure out your motive for the hacking incident. I can appreciate your dedication to getting these monsters off the street. I just don’t know how you’ll do it if you’re dead.”

I’m dizzy with relief. He knows about Amelia but not the role I played in her death. “Sir, it’s enough that I had Bastien riding my ass all night about this. I promised him I wouldn’t step one toe off campus without Knot security until he gets back from DC. If my alchemist stalker hasn’t been arrested by then, we’ll figure out what to do at that point.”

“Fair enough.”

“Good. Now, is that all?”

“Just one more thing.” Knot tries to look serious, but the slight lift to the corners of his mouth gives him away. “You said Bastien was on your case all night?”

Ugh. Kill me now.

Bastien

I lick my lips and taste Birdie’s lip gloss as she walks away. I snuck back out of the locker room to watch her leave, and I don’t stop watching until she turns a corner, out of sight. Then, I’m shaking my head in shame. I shouldn’t have kissed her. I definitely had no business fucking her.

She’s owned me for months without the first touch. Now that I’ve had her, there’s no way I can let her go. I’m just not that strong. Birdie will have to be strong enough for both of us and walk away before it’s too late.

Still watching the empty hallway, I bang my head against the door frame several times and finally duck inside to clean up. I grab my bag once I’m finished and walk straight for the motor pool, though I have an incredible urge to detour by Birdie’s office first.

If I leave now, it’ll be half past eleven when I arrive to meet up with my team in DC. An earlier check-in with Chelsea revealed that my crew was not on the roster for today. That means, technically, I haven’t missed any work.

The whole setup is inefficient, a horrible waste of manpower resources, not to mention a hell of a lot of money. But I guess when I own a fifty-million-dollar rock, I can run security as I see fit. As much as I hate the system for this particular job, I’ll reluctantly admit that it makes sense.

Nobody could hijack a security team and stage an elaborate inside heist if the duty roster is entirely random and consists of players across multiple firms.

So, for the rest of the week, we’ll get paid to sit on our asses, waiting for the phone to ring. For some people, this is dream job territory. For paramilitary types like us, it’s torture.

The drive from Norfolk to DC takes about four hours. I check in with Chelsea on the way, psyching myself up for the razzing that’s sure to come. She answers my call in an overly cheerful voice. “This is Chelsea with the Knot Corporation. How may I be of service today?”

Oh god. “Would you cut the shit? I’m not in the mood.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. My partner is the shit-cutting expert and is not here today.”

“I take it that you’ve not been assigned yet.”

Still in the annoying customer service character, she answers, “Our schedule is not known at—shit. This hurts my jaw. No. Our number wasn’t drawn. We’re sitting around on our asses. What are you doing?”

“The same. I’m headed your way.”

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