Page 46 of Guarded from Havoc

We reach the door to the main conference room, which is mostly ajar, and Niall pauses in front of it. “It won’t be that bad,” he tells Tatum kindly. “And we’ll take as many breaks as you want.”

Tatum edges closer to me. Her hand goes cold and clammy in mine. Though her expression is carefully neutral, when she looks up at me, fear and uncertainty shadow her gaze.

In an attempt to lift her mood, I offer, “We could always ask Lucy to bring some more herbal tea. Something relaxing, like chamomile or peppermint.”

A smile teases her lips. “Do you drink chamomile and peppermint teas?”

“Sometimes. At first, just to make Lucy happy. And then later, I realized they weren’t that bad. Especially the peppermint kind.”

“The peppermint isn’t bad,” she agrees as we walk through the doorway, her attention still on me. “Although I still prefer coffee. Or hot chocolate when it’s cold and snowy. I know it’s a kid’s drink, but it makes me feel all warm and cozy.”

Though Texas in late August is about as far from cold and snowy as it gets, I make a mental note to make sure Tatum’s apartment is stocked with hot chocolate and marshmallows. Maybe some sprinkles or peppermint sticks to go with it. And I could go over to share some with her, turn the AC on so it’s all chilly, maybe watch a winter-themed movie…

“Hi, Tatum.” Matt stands up from his seat at the long wooden table, jerking my meandering thoughts back to attention. He takes a few long steps to meet us, holding out his hand in greeting. “It’s really nice to meet you. And thanks for keeping my buddy here safe.”

Tatum flushes. “I don’t think I did much to help Erik. He’s the one who did everything.”

“Yes, you did,” I tell her. “You had my back while I was shorting out the fence. You spotted a couple of the cameras before I did. And you saw the orange?—”

I cut myself off as her face goes white. No. Not white. More greenish.

Fuck.

I know we’ll have to talk about the man in the orange sneakers eventually, but did I really need to bring it up now?

Niall takes a seat at the head of the table and picks up the tablet waiting there. He flips open the cover to wake it, then glances up at the large screen on the wall and gives the man waiting there a quick jerk of his chin. “Cruz. Thanks for joining us today.”

Pulling a chair out for Tatum, I wait until she’s sitting before sinking into the one beside her. She twists her hands in her lap and I have to fight myself not to reach over to still them. Her teeth dig into her lower lip, turning the rosy pink into an angry red.

Shit. We haven’t even started and I’m already regretting bringing her here.

I should have insisted on waiting. She has a concussion, for God’s sake. She should be resting back at the apartment instead sitting through a stressful meeting. What was I thinking, allowing this to happen? We could have pushed this off another day or two. It wouldn’t have made that much of a difference.

Except that’s not true, and I know it. The longer we wait, the further away the people behind this fucked up island shit will get. The harder it’ll be to follow up on leads. The greater chance there’ll be of these monsters striking again.

“Tatum, this is Cruz Livingston,” Niall tells her. He gestures at Cruz, who’s looking particularly grim. “He works for the FBI, as we mentioned. And even though he’s not directly involved, since the case is being handled by the Boston office, we thought it would be helpful to loop him in.”

“Hi, Tatum,” Cruz says. His mouth curves into a slight smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’m really sorry to hear about what happened out in Maine. But I’m glad you’re safe.” He glances at me, then Matt and Niall. “And these guys will make sure you stay that way.”

Tatum casts a quick look in my direction. Something that looks a lot like affection flashes in her eyes. “I trust Erik to protect me. And if he says his team will do the same, I believe him.”

Warmth fills my chest again. Not from pride this time, but a feeling I can’t put words to.

“We will,” agrees Niall. He taps his tablet a few times. His posture straightens. Instinctively, mine does the same. “So we’ll start by going over what you remember,” Niall continues, shifting his attention to Tatum. “I know you’ve been through it already. But there could be some small detail we pick up on this time around that might help.”

Matt’s fingers pause mid-flight across his laptop keyboard. “I might ask you a question here or there. A specific color, or typeof tree… Things that you might not realize you remember until I ask about them.”

And my unspoken role—sitting beside Tatum to offer support when she needs it. Which is more than okay with me. When I talked to the team about it last night, they offered me an out. “I could stick with Tatum,” Rhi suggested. “If you’re not feeling up to it. Being a woman, she might feel more comfortable with me.”

But it wouldn’t matter how terrible I felt—although I don’t, because I wasn’t lying when I told Tatum I’m physically okay—I wouldn’t dream of not being here for her.

“Then we’ll move on to the more personal questions,” Niall adds. His lips thin. “It’s not pleasant. I won’t pretend it is. We have to consider the people you know as possible suspects. Coworkers, friends, family members…”

“I don’t have family,” Tate interrupts. “Just some distant cousins that I never talk to. And I’m not rich, so they’d have no reason to want to kill me.” She snorts quietly. “They’d be lucky to get a few thousand. And a car with three years of payments still left on it. Hardly anything to get excited about, let alone stage an elaborate maze of death traps on a deserted island.”

“You just never know,” I tell her softly. “People have crazy motives sometimes. Things that would never make sense to us because we don’t think that way.”

After a deep breath and exhale, Tate lifts her chin and sets her shoulders. “Well. Whatever you want to know, I’ll tell you.”

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