Page 36 of My Masked Savior
“They didn’t meet me. I was outside.”
“Oh, well, that makes it so much better,” Killian deadpans.
“It was reconnaissance.”
“It was stalking,” Ethan corrects.
“Potato, potahto. How’s work been?” I ask, mostly to change the subject.
Killian shrugs. “Same. Rich people need to off other rich people. Emily keeps threatening to make me get a real job.”
“You mean one that doesn’t involve carrying a gun?” Ethan asks.
“Exactly. She thinks I should go into consulting or some shit.”
“You’d last about five minutes in a cubicle,” I tell him.
“That’s what I said.” He grins. “She thinks I’m being dramatic.”
“You are dramatic,” Ethan points out.
“Says the guy who communicates exclusively through encrypted channels.”
“That’s called being professional.”
“That’s called paranoia,” Killian quips back.
I tune out their bickering, watching condensation slide down my glass. My phone sits face-up on the table, Morgan’s last text still visible on the screen.
I’ll ask her and let you know.
Simple. Normal. The kind of thing people say to each other every day.
Except nothing about this is normal.
I followed her to another state. I watched her through her bedroom window. Orchestrated our meeting at the gym like I hadn’t been tracking her movements for days. And now I’m arranging protection for her friend, inserting myself deeper into her life with every move.
Killian’s words echo in my head.
You’re still trying to convince yourself you’re some kind of protector.
Maybe he’s right. Maybe I’ve been lying to myself about what this is, what I’m doing. Marco’s a threat—that’s real enough. But would I have pursued Morgan this way if she didn’t need protection? Would I have followed her, watched her, engineered our connection?
Yes.
The answer comes instantly, certainly. I would’ve found a way to her regardless. The threat just gave me justification, let me pretend this was about keeping her safe instead of the truth—that I wanted her from the moment I saw her gasping for air in that conference room.
From what? Her ex, who hasn’t actually done anything yet? Or from yourself?
I take a long pull from my Guinness. The question sits in my chest like a stone. Morgan trusts me. Opens up to me in ways she admitted she never does with anyone. She doesn’t know I’ve been inside her apartment, inside her life, manipulating circumstances to keep her close.
She thinks I’m her savior.
What happens when she realizes I’m just another man who couldn’t let her go?
13
MORGAN
