Page 5 of Unexpected Heroine

This is a weapons room.

What the hell?

One of the taller men says, “T, you know she’s not allowed in here.”

“T?” I parrot inquisitively, unable to bite my tongue.

No one answers me.

James’s eyes widen, nearly doubling in size as he stares down the larger, intimidating man. Despite their size difference, James doesn’t cower.

If looks could kill.

“Whatever,” the other man replies in a huff. “We’ve broken all the other rules tonight. What’s a few more?” He strolls over to a shelf and begins unloading items from his vest.

James does the same.

Wait. Did he answer to T? Maybe it’s a nickname or something. Add it to my rapidly growing list of wonderings. Just pile it on there like gobs of melted cheese on fries.

Mmm. I want cheesy fries.

When James said he worked at a security company, I pictured something a lot less intense. This is overwhelming on so many levels.

What was it that Mama used to say when she was stressed?

Ah yes. Calgon, take me away.

Whoever Calgon is, I could use his divine intervention right about now.

After James removes his vest and the items from the various pockets and compartments, he leads me out. At a brisker pace, we continue our trek through the building.

“This is my office,” James mutters, ducking us into a large room.

Okay, so this is definitely where he works.

There’s no sign on the door, but you can see the spot where one would be. It strikes me as odd, but I quickly become distracted by the wide expanse of the room and all the tech equipment. A large bank of screens takes up one wall, and computers are everywhere I look.

James stops short, his grip on my hand tightening. When my eyes break away from the blinking lights on the various machines, they land on a hulking figure wearing a pissed-off expression. His huge arms are crossed at his chest. Another man stands beside him, even angrier than the giant.

My breath recoils into the back of my throat. Reflexively, I tuck my body close to James’s side, letting him shield me. Thankfully, he does.

Fear sends a jolt of energy through my veins, and my senses sharpen. I’m struck mute while the others enter the room and surround us. One by one, they freeze when they see the two men with icy glares. Tension prickles in the air like static electricity.

Nobody speaks.

Well, not with words. Their faces do plenty of communicating, though.

The man who was cuddled up to Mia in the elevator comes tripping in, jovial as the first day of spring. “What’s with the long faces? Once again, Redleg saved the day.”

He stutters to a stop when he sees the hostile-looking men, and his demeanor instantly plummets. “Oh shiiit.”

Seems appropriate if my read on the vibe is anything to go by.

Earlier, in the van, I heard them talk about someone named Big Al. I bet that giant-looking dude is him.

Mia’s jolly beau is the first to speak. Again. “Hi, Boss. Working late tonight?”

He’s addressing the smaller of the two men. Although smaller is relative. They’re both imposing figures. I guess it’s safe to assume the man in charge is the shorter one. He seems older than the rest, the beginning streaks of gray at his temples. The other must be his muscle. Like an enforcer or something.

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