Page 62 of Echo, the Sniper (Men of PSI #2)
“As per your request, all external cams are hi-def, audio-capable and of course are weatherproof. The dumpsters are thirty feet away from the back exit, with cameras on either side of it, as well as motion-sensitive lights that’ll turn on with the slightest movement, as well as send alerts to both the admins of the building and to us here at the security nerve center.
The way you’ve structured it makes it virtually impossible for anyone to hide either behind or inside those dumpsters. ”
“Good,” I murmured, eyes glued to the screen in front of the seated security tech. “What else?”
“All points of entry have automatic steel lock-bars that can be activated with a push of a button in case of an emergency situation, as well as the three steel doors leading into the reception area, creating a panic-room core of the first floor. Also, all windows have been replaced with high-impact safety glass. And lastly, all the existing trees and shrubs over two feet high have been removed, replaced by low-lying flowerbeds and ground cover. Still pretty, still green and not looking like a prison, but there’s not a single structure that a potential intruder could hide behind. ”
“Awesome.” I clapped the tech on the shoulder, brimming with satisfaction.
Six months ago I’d stumbled onto a ramshackle warehouse with a FOR SALE sign on its chain link fence.
It was no more than five minutes away from PSI’s back parking lot, and the moment I saw it I began planning on how best to secure the industrial, one-acre location.
I’d already learned from my research on the subject that women’s shelters never advertised their exact location, which was ideal for this property, since it was hidden off the beaten path behind PSI.
Local law enforcement, charities and churches were the usual middlemen in getting at-risk women to the safety they desperately needed, so this former auto parts warehouse with its large fenced-in lot and almost no obscuring foliage had looked like it could be just about perfect for what my security standards required.
When I’d brought Rory in to do a complete walk-through, pointing out the thick brick-and-mortar walls that no bullet could get through, the closeness to PSI, and all the other safety features the location provided, she’d beamed at me like I was the answer to all her prayers.
I fucking loved it when she looked at me like that, but I knew the truth. She was the answer to mine .
“Hey.” Mary Jane popped her curly head into the nerve center just as I was reaching for the door. “I heard you were here even though you’re taking the day off for Rory’s graduation. I wanted to catch you before you left.”
I glanced at my watch and winced. Shit. I needed to get a move-on. “You almost didn’t. What’s up?”
“Tonight, the big party at your place. What can I bring? I heard your aunt and grandma are bringing out dueling recipes for California’s ultimate fish tacos, with a poll at the end of the party to see whose tacos are best.”
“God help us all.” I still couldn’t believe the women in my life had decided that was a good idea.
To mitigate any hurt feelings, I’d gotten a cute little tiara for the winner, and an all-expenses paid weekend on a riverboat casino for the “loser.” “Whoever loses tonight is never going to let me hear the end of it.”
“That sounds like a you problem,” Mary Jane said brightly.
“ My problem is that I don’t know what to bring.
Rory told me she’s making approximately one million enchiladas with that amazing secret sauce of hers, as well as laying out a huge make-your-own nachos bar that’s basically going to stretch the length of the deck.
That’s a crazy amount of food, so what can I bring?
Beer? Ice? Paper plates? A sommelier to pair up the wines with the food? ”
“Only you would think of a sommelier, you crazy foodie.” Chuckling, I headed out into the maze of hallways in the depths of the PSI building, bypassing the gym and heading for the exit.
“My tía and abuela have all the food covered, along with Rory, and we’ve got about four ice chests filled with sodas and beer, plus everything in the fridges.
No wine though, so if you want to bring your own bottle, that’s fine with me. ”
“You sure? Nothing for the grill?”
“You should see the stacks of marinated steaks and fajita meat going on at our place right now,” I groaned, shaking my head. “Several cows have given up their lives so that we can have mesquite-grilled beef so tender you probably won’t even have to chew it.”
“I’m drooling and it’s not even nine o’clock in the morning,” Mary Jane confessed before brightening. “I know! I’ll stop off at a bakery and bring some desserts. I mean, I already know you have that monster of a cake—”
“You didn’t tell Rory about that cake, did you?” I looked back at her before pushing out the glass front door. “She knows there’s a party tonight, obviously. But that cake and a couple other things I’m planning are a surprise.”
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry, I haven’t said a thing. Besides, she’s been too busy with finals for a good old-fashioned gossip-fest with her bestie. I’ve missed her, to be honest.”
“She’s missed you, too.” The fact that Rory and Mary Jane had become best friends since Rory moved to Chicago made my heart sing.
Mary Jane had wasted no time in apologizing to Rory for basically blaming Rory for the bullet she took.
For her part, Rory had been determinedly polite but distant, and I couldn’t blame her.
She’d been through so much for so long that all she’d wanted to do was just lock everyone out while she tried to find her feet.
But Mary Jane had been relentless. Before I knew it she had bulldozed her way through all of Rory’s formidable defenses, and by the time Rory started her first day at University of Chicago, she and Mary Jane were as thick as thieves.
Unfortunately Mary Jane had to work this morning, but I and my family would be there to cheer Rory on as she walked the stage to receive her BBA in Business in Nonprofit Management.
When it came to celebrating my woman’s achievements, I was proud to be her biggest supporter.
On my way toward U of C, I stopped to pick up three bouquets—all in the university’s colors of maroon and white, and no roses in the lot—to give to Rory and my tía and abuela, because they deserved some love after helping me put tonight’s party together.
Parking was the expected nightmare, so I did the unthinkable and paid an insane amount for valet parking and headed out into the warm June sunshine to find my family, flowers in tow.
Five minutes later, after several back-and-forth texts between me and my aunt Inez, I found them near the front of the stage.
To my surprise, Inez had popped my abuela into a seldom-used wheelchair and shamelessly used her ninety-year-old mother to get choice aisle seats no more than thirty feet from where Rory would soon be handed her diploma.
When the women of my life decided to do things, the only thing left for me to do was stand aside and watch them get shit done.
The graduating students began filtering in, wearing their black caps and gowns with several maroon and white stoles dotted throughout.
I spotted Rory almost immediately, her fair hair bound neatly into a bun at her nape, and it was clear she was searching the crowd.
The moment her gaze swung in our direction I stood up and waved.
Her entire face lit up when she spotted me, like she was looking at the only thing that mattered in her life, and it made something clench in my chest so hard it hurt.
She looked like she wanted to jump out of formation and run to where we were, but I held up a calming hand before pointing to our seats.
I’ll be right here waiting for you, baby girl.
It was ridiculous, how I fucking melted when she blew me a kiss.
The Convocation was long, and it didn’t surprise me when my abuela pulled out her phone to play a few rounds of Candy Crush.
But I knew something they didn’t; as the student who’d managed to earn a four-year degree in just three years and graduated Summa Cum Laude, Rory—the most brilliant mind I had ever known—got to deliver the commencement speech.
“Mama,” Inez hissed, placing a hand over her mother’s chirping phone, while I watched Rory take her place up on the dais behind the podium. “Look at the stage. It’s Rory.”
“Hm?” Abuela Rosalia blinked myopically. “Is she in trouble? Ethan, go and save her.”
“It’s okay, she doesn’t need saving,” I whispered, eyes on Rory as she began addressing the crowd. “She’s exactly where she’s supposed to be.”
In the spotlight, owning her place in the world.