Page 19 of Deny Me
Charlotte closed her eyes for the briefest moment. Becky shouldn’t be worrying about safety; she should be focused on her child.
Elliot moved to the sofa and crouched next to Becky. “I assure you, Becky, that we absolutely know what we’re doing. No one, and I meanno one, is getting past us. You and your baby will be safe, no matter what we have to do to ensure that.”
Charlotte felt the same. No matter what.
Chapter Nine
The afternoon quiet was broken only by the clicking of King’s fingers on his keyboard and the creaking of the wooden chair beneath him as he shifted, trying to find a comfortable position that didn’t feel like it was bruising his ass. He swore Ruth used to have cushions on the old oak chairs that sat around the long table in the servants’ dining room, but if she had, they’d disappeared before he’d walked through the door. He’d gladly suffer the older woman’s grudge, but he hated to admit to his team that he was the reason they had to suffer the bare wood seats day after day.
He’d just gotten up to stretch his kinked back when the swinging door pushed inward and Wes walked through. They hadn’t been alone since his cousin had come to his office yesterday morning, but it was still a shock when the jolt of familiarity went through him. Familiarity and curiosity. For years he’d blocked his family from his mind, not wanting to deal with the pain of losing everything familiar to follow his calling. Now his family was waiting around every corner—or through every door.
“Hey, Wes.”
“Hey.”
He eyed the less than crisp lines of Wes’s suit. “Long day at the office?”
“Considering I’ve been up since three, yeah.”
Wes had always been a hard worker, but King doubted he set his alarm for three. “Worried?”
A vee creased between Wes’s brows. “Aren’t you?”
“Of course I am.” He just had more training in not thinking about it. Not thinking about Charlotte. If he did, too much emotion could cloud his judgment when he needed it. Besides, he had no right to worry about her anymore. “We will protect her, Wes. We’ll protect them both.”
Wes slumped into a chair to King’s left, rubbing a hand across his eyes. “You know, I actually hesitated before I came to see you. How could I do that?” He shook his head. “What if I hadn’t? God knows who could be coming after them. And I was going to let petty jealousy get in the way of that.”
“Jealousy?” Wes was the one who’d been by Charlotte’s side, not King.
Wes gave him a wry smile as he stared up at King leaning against his chair back. “You probably don’t realize it, but yours are hard shoes to fill.”
“It should never have been about filling my shoes, Wes.” Lord knew his decisions hadn’t been ones he’d encourage anyone to make; they’d hurt too much. He’d spent enough of his life trying to be someone he wasn’t, and he’d definitely never wanted that for the man he’d considered his brother.
But Wes wasn’t talking about their family, was he? He was talking about Charlotte. He ignored the knot in his stomach to say what needed to be said. “Charlotte and I made our decisions a long time ago; you know that.” Just because he was helping keep her safe didn’t mean he was waiting for her to fall into his arms.
Wes’s blue eyes, so like his, locked on. “I know.”
“And I’m not the successful lawyer who didn’t walk away from his family, remember?” Wes had always been the family golden boy, King the family troublemaker.
“I know.” But something dark lurked in his gaze.
The silence that fell between them felt awkward. King hated that. He’d missed his cousin, the easy comradery they’d once had, more than he’d allowed himself to realize. He dropped his eyes to the dark oak table, cleared his throat. “So you and Charlotte are serious, then?”
The darkness was gone when King looked back at his cousin, replaced by a grin. “Let’s just say I’m working on it.”
And bastard that he was, King felt relief surge through him—working on itwas notyes. He opened his mouth, unsure what to say, but closed it when Dain walked through the door. Instead he found his seat, wishing for the tenth time today that he was sitting in his cushy command chair back in his office.
Wes waited until Dain and Saint had come in before asking, “Any news?”
King shook his head. “My contact in the investigation into Jones is fairly forthcoming, but it’s too early to have any leads. They’ve got an APB out on the motorcycle and they’re watching Jones’s credit cards, but the man probably has enough cash on hand to stay off the grid a long while.”
“He’ll make a mistake,” Wes said. “He’s not smart enough to stay hidden forever.”
“Unless he wants to stay alive,” Dain pointed out. “Survival can be a powerful motivator.”
Wes raked a hand through his perfectly cut hair. “True.”
“We have something in common with them, actually.” Saint picked up a pen and began to doodle on the pad of paper in front of him. King knew from experience that his friend used the drawing to work out puzzles in their investigations in his head. “We’ve only been here since yesterday afternoon. It’s too early to know much of anything, including who our enemy really is.”
