Page 19 of Taking Root

Chapter Nine

Fuck, who didn’t own more than one mug?

Bitches in WitSec who lived by their lonesome, that’s who. Danny slammed her cupboard shut, staring at the assembly of three soup bowls, one chipped coffee mug, and three glasses she’d produced. When her last two mugs broke, she hadn’t seen much use in finding replacements. After all, she was the only one ever using them.

Her handler scheduled a visit, and she wanted to at least be able to offer the woman tea or coffee.

A rap sounded at her door, three times in their perfunctory signal. Even still, the sound set her pulse racing. Danny didn’t have visitors. Not when she spent every spare second worrying her father tracked her down.

Danny tugged at the bottom of her slouchy olive tunic, as if somehow she straightened up for the visit. She’d already cleaned the handful of knick-knacks she owned. Even as she yanked the door open, her other hand leapt to the pistol in her waistband. Just in case.

Eve Jensen stepped in, her hair loose in beachy waves and her ballet slippers making a whisper as she carried a yoga mat inside with her. The woman was around her age, and even with the fast and easy pretense, she carried around this air of lethal seriousness like a live grenade, similar to every Fed Danny had met.

“Ready to get your Ashtanga on?” Eve announced as she closed the door behind her.

Danny rolled her eyes, the comment meant for the invisible mice listening in the walls. Eve set about rolling out the bright pink mat while Danny popped her TV on to some streaming yoga video.

“Want a cup of tea?” she asked, walking the couple of paces over to her kitchen lining the far wall.

“Sure, whatever you’ve got,” Eve said, starting to do some warm-up exercises. Like anyone in their right mind would believe this agent was a granola girl ready to get into relax-mode with a friend. Whenever they met in person, her handler always donned some disguise or cover to blend into their surroundings. Danny was used to the change-up by now. She’d gotten just as talented at slipping into different personas.

She set a pot of water to boil and rummaged around in her overstuffed tin for a few crumpled bags of herbal tea from her stash. The moment she poured the scalding water into the mug and bowl, the scents of chamomile and lavender wafted her way. She set her bowl onto her piecemeal TV stand, which was about to crack under the weight of another move. Eve raised a brow at the bowl of tea.

“It’s been awhile since I entertained,” Danny grumbled, walking over to her blinds to flicker them shut. She knew the drill.

“We got an update on your father,” Eve said, mid-stretch. Her gaze never left the program on the TV.

Danny should’ve been used to it by now, but every time one of the handlers said that, her skin crawled. Like her father waited outside her apartment, prepared to knock her out and add her to his body count.

“Does it involve me fending Kyle Peterson off with a tire iron?” she asked, staring at the scabs on her knuckles. “I think I could get a couple of good swings in.”

“You’re drawing Kyle Peterson to the region,” Eve said in a no-nonsense tone. “As a civilian under our protection, you won’t be doing any attacking. He’s on your trail, though. A body was found in Virginia with your father’s DNA all over it.”

Bile rose in Danny’s throat. “Not Mom, right?”

Eve shook her head, and the relief soaking through her felt a lot like guilt. Not for the first time, she wondered if she’d wake up one morning and want to go on a killing spree. After all, she had that bastard’s DNA in her genetic makeup. He’d never been a good father, never an affectionate one—but her entire childhood, he’d appeared normal. Until the Band-Aid peeled off a festering sore so horrifying those images would remain with her for a lifetime.

Every time he stole another life, guilt slammed against an already flimsy dam, like somehow she should’ve been able to stop him. Like her seven-year-old self should’ve caught him while he was vulnerable and tried to knock him out with her plastic tea set. Yeah, right. She was out digging in the dirt back then and jumping off swings with her friends. Still, if someone had stopped him…all those people wouldn’t have died. She would’ve never had to leave.

“So, what’s the game plan?” she asked. “Just sit here, twiddle my thumbs, and wait for my father to pop up on my doorstep?”

Eve sank out of warrior pose before stepping over to pick up her still-steaming mug of tea. “You need to stay visible and local. Eat your meals out in public and stay away from isolated situations. When you come home at night, keep your gun out and ready to fire at a moment’s notice. Your father’s killing again, meaning he’s more dangerous than usual.”

As if Danny wasn’t vigilant 24/7. Now she’d be in full paranoia mode, the familiar prickle of adrenaline crawling up her neck. She lifted her bowl of tea and took a sip, the tea bag bobbing around on the surface. Even with the soothing scent, the herbal blend did little to calm her nerves.

“The check-ins will be a lot more frequent,” Eve said, taking another sip of tea as her intense gaze landed on Danny. “Your safety is of utmost importance in this.”

“And my mom?” Danny asked, desperate for any updates. If her father combed the States for her and Mom, their safety was more of a farce than ever.

“We have her under close watch in a different city,” Eve said. The edge in her voice hinted no more details would be given, no matter how much Danny longed to see Mom again and hear her voice.

“If he’s closing in on the two of us, wouldn’t it make more sense to dangle us as bait together?” Danny couldn’t help the word vomit of far-fetched solutions, but she’d do anything—anything to reunite with her mother. It had been so long since they’d spoken, since she’d seen those sad, smiling eyes and smelled the cocoa scent of the lotion she loved.

Eve shook her head. “You know that’s not possible. If something happened to one of you, at least the other is still alive to testify once we catch him.”

Arguments lodged in Danny’s throat. Staying here, so close to her hometown, as bait for her father had her walking on razor blades even more than normal. Adrian alone kept her from pulling into Meltdown Station.

Eve lifted the mug and chugged the rest of the tea. “And everything is fine here? Your alibi’s airtight?”

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