Page 10 of Room Nine: Masters of Control

“Well, I guess we’ll have to see what Townsend says tomorrow, but I don’t like the idea of leaving her on her own,” I retort.

Kerr nods, sliding the charging handle and bolt in before locking his M4 in place. “Agreed. One way or another, she’s getting our protection until we can put Bobby down.”

O’Dell nods. “Agreed.”

The shower water turns off, so I lower my voice. “I’ll put a tracker on her car, and then we’ll insist she help us scrub the scene. One of us will have to follow her home, all stealth like, but I think we should give her the option of protection, just so she knows it’s there.”

Kerr and O’Dell exchange another look and nod their heads. “That’s a good idea. We’ll make sure she has our phone numbers, too, just in case.”

“Do we know where Bobby boy is right now?”

I pull up an app on my tactical tablet. “His truck is parked in that crap hole apartment building, but his Cadillac is on the move in downtown Chicago. I wonder if he’s heard about the house blowing up?”

O’Dell shakes his head. “They deeded the house to a shell company, so he wouldn’t be the one to get the call. Man, I’d love to be a fly on the wall of that fucking conversation.”

I shrug. “Maybe we can be. Let me call Soren.”

Kyra comes out of the bathroom in a pair of well-worn sweatpants and a baggy sweatshirt with the neck cut out—giving me serious Flashdance vibes. Her red hair is wet, and she scrubbed her face clean, allowing her skin to glow. She’s so fucking touchable, her soft skin begging to be caressed.

Kerr is right. I definitely want to fuck her.

Her gaze swings around the room, meeting each of us in the eye, but she saves her smile for me. “You were right. That shower felt amazing.”

“Are you badly bruised?” Kerr asks, and I can hear the regret in his voice.

“Nothing that won’t heal.” She sits cross-legged in the lone armchair, the neck of her sweatshirt slipping off her bare shoulder.

I turn back to the monitors as the last EMS truck’s taillights turn on and the team pulls off the property. “We’re clear.”

O’Dell speaks. “So, Kyra. I spoke to our boss, and we’re not going to hand you over to the Feds just yet. We need you to help us scrub the scene, in case you think of something we miss that could be traced back to you, and then…”

I’m unplugging the computer monitors and powering down our computer equipment when O’Dell trails off. Spinning around in my chair, I find her staring at them with her eyebrow arched.

“And?”

“We feel it’s not safe for you to return to your normal routine while Bobby is running wild.”

She frowns. “Why not?”

“The DiFallos aren’t going to have a lot of love for Bobby after one of their houses, the one he was assigned, blew up. They won’t trust him with another, and they might even put a hit out on him to clean up the mess. The house is now public, even if local LE knows nothing about what has been going on there. DiFallo won’t stand for it, and we believe Bobby is smart enough to know he’s fucked. Therefore, there’s a strong possibility he’ll come for you on his way out of town.”

To her credit, she doesn’t immediately dismiss our concern, mulling over things in her head. I rise from my seat and approach, her soft blue eyes coming up to meet mine, and kneel beside her chair. “We have full confidence you can protect yourself. You nearly kicking Kerr’s ass proves that.”

This causes her to smile while Kerr grumbles behind me. “But we have years of experience with unstable people, and Bobby’s love notes cause us concern. Don’t dismiss how dangerous he can be.”

“Or how desperate he will be after this,” O’Dell adds.

Kyra lays her hand on mine. “I appreciate your concern. I really do. But one thing I promised myself after the last time this happened was I would never allow some asshole to scare me to where I had to hide.”

She looks at each of us, as if to stress her point. “I’m not hiding from him. I’ll be vigilant, I’ll be careful, but above all, I’ll be prepared if he comes for me.”

I sigh, recognizing a woman who will not be swayed. Glancing at my partners, they nod, but the gleam in their eyes tell me we’re moving on to plan B.

“I guess it’s time to go.” O’Dell slaps his thighs and stands. “Pack up the necessities. We’ll come back next week to dismantle everything else.”

I’m the unofficial tech guy of our team, so I return to pulling and wrapping computer cables, throwing them in a box next to the desk. I’m not a Soren—nobody is a Soren—but I’m the most comfortable of the three of us with computers and all the tech gadgets he shoves in our direction. The man is a genius, recruited by all the three-letter agencies for his brilliance, but lucky for those of us employed by Townsend Agency, his brain is better suited for PsySpecOps warfare. Plus, he’s bonded with his teammates, Reese and Caiden—not dissimilar to my brotherly bond with O’Dell and Kerr—so he would never leave them.

And now they have a fiancée, soon-to-be bride. Definitely in it together for life.

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