Page 29 of Double Shot

There was nothing, zero interest.

“Xaveria,” I took her hand for a moment, “I will never, ever, forget what we did, or more precisely, what you did while I was watching. That being said, as lovely as you are, I am going to have to pass.”

“What if I offer you… a discount?” She raised an eyebrow. “You weren’t unimpressive yourself.”

“It’s not a matter of money,” I said.

“What is her name, then?” she asked, fanning her fake eyelashes.

I couldn’t keep the smile off my face, and she smiled too. She knew, without me even having to say it – which I wouldn’t. Shady was mine –ours, and we didn’t share. Not even her name. Not even like this.

“That I’m going to have to keep to myself,” I said with a wink, turning my genuine smile to a tactical advantage, turning it up a notch.

“Always a man of mysteries, Mr. Newman.” She gave a polite tip of her head, and then she sauntered away. There were other customers to be had, and the topflight escorts were never pushy or aggressive; their time was worth more than badgering men into picking them up.

I finished the Aviator and gave the bartender a tip.

Her eyes bulged slightly as she read the amount on the receipt. She had made the drinks excellently, and that was about the only part of this that had felt right. The elevator was silent as it whisked me back to our floor, and then I let myself into our suite. Roan was up, the lights in the kitchenette dimmed. His face was illuminated by the glow of a laptop, technically mine. I barely used the thing. The phone I carried was perfectly acceptable for anything I needed.

“She still asleep?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

“How’s the leg?”

“It’s been better, a lot of bruising,” he said. He had a glass of whiskey close at hand.

“How’s the whi—” I stopped. This was fucking small talk. “Conan, are you okay?”

He looked up at me using his first name; we only rarely ever spoke with first names. Years of military work had reduced us to commonly using just last names, the habit of dropping rank in front of that had faded, but the last name thing had stuck.

“I’m not doing well, mate,” he said. I could tell that he had a lot to come back from. His time in captivity had cost him a good deal of weight loss. The mass had gone out of his chest and arms – a quick guess was a mediocre caloric diet and no access to weight training equipment. Outwardly he showed no signs of torture – he still had all ten fingers, all five toes, and there was no deformity to his face, so likely still had all his teeth.

“Do you need to talk about it?” I asked the counselor question.

“Maybe, probably, but there are other things we need to talk about first,” he said, closing the laptop.

“Shoot,” I said, pouring myself some of his brown liquor.

“Why was Sadie there, why did you have her in the line of fire?” he asked.

“What is that dungeon thing,don’t split the party?Leaving Grant and Sadie at the rental would have kept them out of the danger zone, but it would mean leaving them in a second location and requiring us meeting back up. Sure, I could have tried it alone, Grant could have remoted the drone from the rental, but then there would have been no one else in the car. It was a tactical decision. Fewer loose ends, more resources in one place.”

“Sadie isn’t a bloody resource,” he said in a low voice.

“Yes, she was. Every one of us was a resource in the mission, and the mission was to rescue you. I had to, and when you get on your laptop, you’ll see and hopefully you’ll understand.” How did he drink this brown stuff? Ugh.

“What’s on my laptop?”

“She’s been either emailing you or keeping some intense personal journal, and I’m doubling down that it’s everything to do with you.” I finished the glass in a gulp and felt my stomach churn.

“Have you been reading them?” He looked somewhere between surprised and angered.

“Fuck, no.” I held up my hands. “I’ve been forgiven for crossing some serious boundaries, but that’s a level of personal that even my sociopathic ass knows not to cross.”

“Oh, well that’s almost surprising,” he said thoughtfully.

“Things have changed, mate,” I said. I opened the bar cooler and found a small bottle of gin. It was overpriced but ordering room service to bring me a couple would take too long and might wake Sadie. She had become a notoriously light sleeper since the house fell. “Shehas changed. You might not want to see it but sheiscapable.”

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