Desperate Girls (Wolfe Security #1)(80)

“Nothing. I’m sure someone buried it.”

Not nothing. No way. Brynn would be willing to bet that letter had been buried only after someone made sure Erik was permanently blacklisted from the service.

“You know, Erik—”

“Don’t say it.”

“Say what?”

“I know what you’re going to say, and I’m not interested in getting litigious. I left, end of story. And I’m better off where I am now.”

She watched him, wondering if he really felt that way or if he’d just convinced himself. He couldn’t go back now. His career with the Marines was over. His career with the Secret Service was over. This job in the private sector had to work out for him. Liam Wolfe’s firm was one of the best in the business, and if Erik blew this opportunity, there was nowhere to go but down.

Brynn felt selfish for putting his job at risk. Sure, it took two to tango and all that, but she’d been determined to wear down his resistance. And she had.

He was watching her now, studying her reaction.

“You don’t have to worry,” she said, “about me saying anything.”

“I know.”

Did he really? He’d been slow to trust her, but he did. The last thing she wanted to do was break that trust.

Erik held her gaze, and she felt a familiar charge in the air, only this time it came with a zing of panic.

She wanted him to kiss her. She was suddenly swamped with memories, and she wanted him to make love to her again as he had the other night, when he’d been so forceful and tender, both at the same time. Just looking at him, she felt a bone-deep craving for him. It wasn’t just his body or his hands or his mouth but his eyes that did it, the way he looked at her with such complete focus it made her heart melt.

She couldn’t do this to him again. She cared about him too much. It was ironic, really. She wanted him close to her in every way, which was exactly why she needed to keep her distance.

She stood abruptly. “I should get to bed.”

His gaze narrowed. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I have an early start tomorrow, so . . . thanks for talking.”

He nodded.

She turned and walked away, leaving him alone with the TV until one of his teammates came to relieve him at twelve—which thankfully meant she wouldn’t be bumping into him in the middle of the night.

“Brynn.”

She turned around.

“I’ve been following the trial, and you’re right about what you told Reggie.”

She arched her eyebrows.

“The jury isn’t buying what Conlon’s selling. They want to hear your case. So good luck with Perez tomorrow.”

Good luck? Wasn’t he taking her to the courthouse?

“Aren’t you driving me?” she asked.

“Yeah. I just mean good luck, you know, in case I don’t get a chance to tell you tomorrow.”

“You mean tell me something personal in front of Hayes.”

He nodded, and for no logical reason, that hurt her feelings.

“I realize it’s late in the game,” he said, “but I’m trying to keep this aboveboard.”

The game. Ouch.

“Hey, no worries, I understand.” She forced a smile. “Good night.”

Erik felt itchy. Edgy. The constant low-grade tension he’d been feeling for days had ramped up tonight, and he couldn’t shake it.

He didn’t want to. The feeling was useful because it was instinctive. Erik had long ago learned to use his instincts, especially when they were trying to warn him.

Erik had given up on sleep at his hotel and returned to Brynn’s apartment. Now he paused in the dim stairwell and listened.

No footsteps above or below. No groan of an elevator. At 0300, most of the building was asleep, and the hum of the AC duct overhead was the only sound.

He took the flights quickly. Reaching the bottom, he aimed his penlight at the recently installed surveillance cam. Everything looked in order. Erik slipped through the door and crossed the Atrium’s deserted lobby, where the silence was broken by the gurgling fountain. He took the back exit near the parking garage and stepped into the muggy night, scanning the alley behind Brynn’s building.

The alley had been a thorn in his side for days. The narrow strip of pavement had countless entry points, and short of setting up roadblocks, it was impossible to control traffic in and out, which created a security weakness. To make up for it, Skyler’s team had installed half a dozen extra cameras at various corners, but Erik still wasn’t satisfied.

Sticking to the shadows, Erik passed the entrance to the Atrium’s parking garage. He made his way down the alley soundlessly, searching for threats. He passed Dumpsters and stacks of pallets where the air smelled of rotting garbage. He moved along the building adjacent to the Atrium’s garage and emerged onto Commerce Street.

A small black four-door caught his eye. Engine off, no lights. It was parked at an empty meter a block from the Atrium, and a lone male sat behind the wheel. He wasn’t moving or looking at a cell phone, just sitting there with his gaze trained on the building.

Erik approached from behind, careful to avoid his mirrors. He ducked low behind the car and waited. A minute ticked by. Two. He clenched his hand into a fist and made his move.

Erik pounded on the glass, and the man jumped.