Page 67 of Inflame

Remembering that Claire needs ice, I find some in the freezer, package it inside a plastic bag, and tie it off.

I knock twice on her door, hearing her sniffles from the other side. She opens the door, and I swear she looks more fragile than I’ve ever seen her. Smaller. More petite. Gone is the fierce girl who went to war over seeing some men gyrate to raunchy music. Replacing her is the defeated girl who looks like she is going to cry again.

“I brought you some ice for your cheek,” I say, eyeing the minor redness that is breaking through her otherwise clear complexion. I hate seeing her in pain, and I know she is harboring the emotional kind right now.

“Thanks,” she says, accepting the bag.

“Claire?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m not mad at you.”

Her big brown eyes find mine. But she can’t do anything more than nod.

When I get to my room, I kick off my shoes and lie down on the bed. What a night. I pull my phone out and see the notification for Graham’s message pop up across the screen.

Graham: One of my current heads of security, Eugene, informed me that there was a break-in at HH. This keeps happening. The only reason the guy didn’t get in fully is because the night security guards changed up their routine to compensate for one calling off last minute due to illness.

Nic: Point of entry?

Graham: Back door

Nic: Anything broken?

Graham: Two interior windows. Managed to get through the first entry with a key card. Probably a stolen one.

Nic: I want all main floor windows changed over to shatterproof. I also want motion detectors installed and the magnetic strips on the keycards aren’t good enough. I plan to re-key everyone’s cards with something less able to be replicated. Install sound warnings if glass breaks. Sirens to deter any unauthorized guests. I want to revamp everything and install all of the equipment myself so I can ensure it is done correctly. Set up more firewalls and secure devices with multiple passwords.

Graham: This is why I am thankful you are on board.

Nic: Safe to assume Angie is not to know about this?

Graham: Correct. I want my girl to be stress free but this all needs to be handled prior to her coming to work in the building.

Nic: Have one of your workers who is in the video control room send me the footage and I will run it through my software to see if anything pops up. I predict it is a dead end, but I like to check off all the boxes.

Graham: Sounds good

Nic: I also need the names of every single employee you have at HH. Cleaners and messengers. All. I want a full list.

Graham: Done

Nic: How willing is your current head of security going to be to hand over the title?

Graham: I actually have two heads who work together since HH is massive and could use the extra protections and guidance.

Nic: Makes sense

Graham: Eugene and Dan were about to finish up a six-month trial basis as head, after working their way up the ladder for years. They know the score. I’m sure both will accept whatever I decide. Do you plan on keeping or firing them?

Nic: I haven’t decided what I want to do yet. I have very high standards and expectations, so if both can keep up, then maybe keeping them will be valuable assets under my guidance.

I shower, change into a pair of black lounge pants, and start thinking about everything I need to do to get Hoffman Headquarters secured. Trespassers piss me off. No one in their right mind would randomly pick HH to try to break into. This is targeted. If anyone will be able to figure out who is gunning for Graham’s property, it will be me. It is a welcome challenge to prevent assholes from breaking in physically or virtually. In order to be thorough, I have to think like a criminal. Good thing is, I have been on the opposite side of the law a few times. Let’s classify those instances under the title of research.

I hear a series of hushed voices outside my room, drawing my attention to the door. It is Claire. I move closer to try to hear what the commotion is about. I already can tell that there are tears in her eyes, just from the tone of her voice.

“You’re drunk, Ethan,” she hisses.

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