Page 41 of Who's Saving You
Her lips part, ready to argue, but I close the distance between us entirely. I plant my hands on the counter on either side of her, caging her in, not touching her but leaving her nowhere to run.
“I mean it, Noelle.”
Her breathing quickens, and not just from fear. I see it in her eyes, the way her pupils dilate while looking at me. She wants to be mad; she wants tonotlike me, but she can't. She doesn’t know who I am, she can’t figure it out, but she’s intrigued. That could be the reporter in her, or maybe it's just the woman wanting to know the man.
“Who else did you contact for an interview?”
She shakes her head. “It was just Trevor.”
“What about requests for information? You said you called the university?”
“I went there.” She whispers.
I close my eyes and drop my head. I can’t believe this is happening right now. “Noelle…”
“I put in freedom of information requests but I needed the information faster. So I drove there.”
I look at her. “Who did you tell about the alley the other night?”
“No one.”
I drop my head. “Then someone saw us.”
“But who would know? You had that hat and sweatshirt on and–”
I shake my head, trying to will my thoughts into making sense. “You submitting just one request was enough to get this all moving. My guess is they’ve been watching you since then. They knew where you live, enough to go there tonight.”
“Who’s they–”
I speak over her. “Rhett and those twomalakasaren’t acting alone. They’re being told what to do.”
“But why?” she yells. “Tell me why! What did you do?”
I hold her stare. She's flushed, and her hands are in fists. She’s trying to hold it together.
“I can’t tell you.” I stand to my full height in front of her. Even sitting on the counter, she lifts her head slightly to me. “You have to just trust me here. And I have to trust you. But you have to stop writing.”
“I won’t ever stop writing.”
“This story,Noelle.Skatá!”I run my hands through my hair. “Damn it. You have to stop writing this story. All you need to know is that it's dangerous. Clearly, you’re seeing blowback already, and if what you’re telling me is true,you don’t have much to go on. I’d hate to see what happens if you do.” She shudders, then tips her head slightly, that mask coming back into play. “Listen, what I can tell you is that there is a guy named Ghost. You woke him by digging for this article.” I hold up my hand as she begins to protest, “I don't know how he knows or what he knows. I have an idea, but I’m not going to tell you yet.”
She’s quiet, and I see her processing all of this. She’s too smart for her own good.
“How do you and Dante know each other?”
“He’s an old family friend.”
She raises a brow. “He’s kind of young to be anoldfamily friend. Do you trust him?”
“With my life.”
She holds my stare, not giving one inch. “Why do I get the feeling you like this? The whole bodyguard complex. You get off on being the one in charge?”
I grin, slow and dark. “I’m always in charge. Plus, I think you like it more than you want to admit. I saw how hard you work to maintain professionalism, keeping things in order, and keeping interview questions moving at your pace. I bet you’d like to take a break once in a while from all that control, huh?”
She scoffs, but it lacks heat. Her pulse is visible on her neck now, and I can tell she’s not sure if she wants to punch me or pull me closer.
“Tell yourself whatever you need to, Nik,” she mutters.
