Page 84 of Finding Fate

Doing one more scan, I nod. "I need to get that file from you."

"I'm coming with the agent in charge of your debriefing tomorrow. I'll give it to you then."

Hitting the End button, I angle the half-liter Coke bottle and down several gulps. Using the sleeve of my hoodie as a makeshift napkin, I wipe the remnants from my lips and turn to Nash, who's back to watching out the window.

"You know what I can’t figure out, Fate." His cold tone has a heavy sense of dread settling in. "How in the hell does this guy know to look for you? We couldn't find you and thought you were dead, so why did he know you weren’t? And not only that, when you do finally pop up, he knows you're a threat. Why is that?"

Shit. Okay, time to lay it all out there.

"I—"

"Don't lie. Just tell me," he demands as he leans against the wall, his narrowed stare locked with my wide eyes.

Heat creeps up my neck and spreads to my cheeks. "I just wanted them off you," I whisper. "I was desperate, frantic. And I... I told them."

His muscles bunch and flex as he pushes off the wall to stalk across the room. Looming over the chair, he holds our intense stare. "Told them what, exactly."

"That I was there for him, that he would pay for everything." Breaking his gaze, I look to Dobby sound asleep on the floor. "Pay for Destiny."

His released breath brushes across my cheeks. "Okay, that's not too bad."

"And I might’ve mentioned some involvement with the CIA. And that they were coming for him. Which is when he ripped off my tracker and dragged me away."

"Anything else?" he seethes.

"His second-in-command was right there, listening. He heard it all."

"Did you also give them your social and mother’s maiden name?" I snap my head up, jaw slack at the barely restrained rage in his voice. "I had one rule. One damn rule. Fuck, Fate!"

With a shake of his head, he storms out. The echo of his footsteps pounding down the stairs reverberates in my ears. I figured he'd be mad, but he's kind of overreacting. I did save his life, kind of. Well, not really.

This is getting confusing. Am I the bad guy?

Massaging my temples with the heels of my palms, I make to follow him but pause at the top of the stairs at the sound of his voice. Giving him some privacy with whoever he's on the phone with, I head back to the spare room and fall into the chair. Staring at the screens, I debate my next move with this asshole. No need to verify my suspicions—the attack on Mac’s computer confirms everything.

I'm still staring at the blank screens when Nash walks back in, slapping his phone on his palm as he stares across the room "I talked to my boss. Effective today, I'm back to work. The boys will check in every hour to make sure things are good here and will be ready if I need backup. We're safe here for now, since this fucker doesn't know exactly where you are, but if that changes, we'll figure it out. I should probably show you the safe room at some point."

"Sounds good to me," I say in a peppy voice I've never heard before. Overcompensate much, Fate? "Are you still mad?"

His gaze flicks over and his shoulders relax. "I'm not mad at you, Pops. Furious at your actions, but not at you. I know you were trying to save me, but don't do it again, okay? All I want is you safe."

"Why?"

"It's a guy thing."

"Is that it?" I ask, more hopeful than I intended for it to come out.

"Are you ready for that talk?" he asks with a smirk, knowing I'll back down. I hate that he knows me as well as he does.

"Fine, promise." I stand and stretch. His hungry gaze tracks every movement, sending my stomach quivering, eager for more of his rough touch. "What's for dinner?" I ask breathlessly, trying to redirect both our thoughts. Even though he knows about my little lie by omission, I still need to know his intentions, as old-school as it sounds. When I gather enough courage to actually have said conversation, that is. "Please don't say breakfast again."

Gaze zeroed in on my lips, he smiles. "Frozen pizza it is."

**

THE FRUSTRATION FADESduring dinner, allowing us to talk and laugh, almost like a first date, except we already know so much about each other that it's deeper. He talks about his physical therapy and the awkwardness of learning to live with the new addition to his body. He also tells me about the hot nurses who begged to give him daily sponge baths, which of course pisses me off and only makes his smile widen.

"So, you said you 'did' have a girlfriend," I say as I bite through a piece of pizza. "What happened?"

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