Page 62 of Splintered Security
“No reason is good enough to stop me.”
“What if I ask you not to?”
“I won’t accept you not being safe… even if it means you’re mad at me. I’ve already told you I’d fight for you and for us, even if that means fighting with you to do it.”
I gesture to his pocket. “Why do you need my old phone?”
“Bait.”
“What?”
He walks toward me, cups my jaw, and turns my face up to him. “I’ll take every advantage I need to make this go my way. You’re falling in love with me, Annika. You said so yourself. And I’m already in love with you. I’m going to protect you and I’m going to do it as quickly as possible. That’s jeopardized by every minute I’m here. Let me get this done, and I’ll be home.”
He drops a kiss to my open mouth and then squeezes my hip as he walks out of the office.
“I’m mad at you.” I call to his retreating form, but there’s no malice in my tone.
“I can handle that. See you in a bit.” With that, the door to the garage clicks shut, and I’m left standing in the office.
What the fuck just happened?
I storm to the bedroom and grab my phone, dialing Ren’s number. Instead of him answering, I get his voicemail.
“Number one, Ren, did you just saySee you in a bit?and roll out to do God knows what? That is not okay. Number two, me. I’m a good enough reason to not do whatever insane thing you’re thinking of doing. And not because I’m worried about anything other than what this will do to you.” My voice drops. “But I am. I don’t want you to have toeliminateanything. I don’t want you doing something dark on my behalf.” My pause is almost too long before I add, “We’ll be okay. Just come on home.”
I click off and stare at my phone, willing it to ring. I finally slide back into bed, holding it like it has answers it won’t reveal.
Eliminate the threat.
I won’t accept you not being safe.
I’m already in love with you.
His words tumble over and over in my head like laundry in a dryer. How could I not fall in love with a man who takes care of me like this? How could I move on if I were to lose him to this?
For the hell of it, I enable the stopwatch on my phone and watch the seconds and minutes tick by. I eventually head backto the kitchen and make coffee. No point in trying to sleep when I’ll just toss and turn until Ren gets home.
I flip on the television in the bedroom—one I’ve never used or needed—and watch old reruns until the sun comes up. The humor is cheesy and doesn’t land. It’s forced, and if it weren’t for the canned laughter, I don’t know why I would’ve thought it was funny the first time I saw it.
It’s like my ears try to pinch together through my skull… the throbbing hollowness that’s half pain-half numbness. It’s my only companion for hours and hours.
Ren
I hit Colorado Springs before four and park not far from the MC compound in Pueblo before five. That leaves plenty of time to verify my intel, which was good. I owe Liam and Marissa more than just a favor. When I get out of this, I will owe them my life. And Annika’s.
Troy Smith hasn’t paid enough attention to know that Rosen is no longer in the picture. In fact, he’s texted “Rose,” AKA me, via that Google number over the last week to discuss his assignment.
Apparently, Smith has been keeping David’sescapequiet in exchange for some personal markers. Those favors include distribution and muling for Smith’s personal enterprise—jobs that Giltenhouse and Conyers know nothing about. Ones that could be seen as undermining the club’soperations. If Giltenhouse or Conyers discover it, Smith is as good as dead.
And I’m counting on that.
And since Rosen hasn’t fulfilled the jobs, Smith has been very communicative over the last week. He’s repeated his expectations ad nauseam.
Rosen: There’s a problem. I need you to come to Denver. Now.
I hate tech most of the time, but this Google number shit is great.
Smith: Do you know what time it is?
