Page 5 of Erik

“Are you gonna tell her? Like that bomb was addressed to her because they didn’t want you anymore, she doesn’t know that?”Natasha must’ve simply shaken her head by the rustling through the receiver, and a heavy sigh flooded the car. “You protect her too much and ignore yourself. What happens when the lies start to catch up to you, huh?”

“They’re talking about some pretty heavy shit.” Rolling my eyes at Remmy’s observation, I tightened my grip on the small, square box and cracked my lids open. Glancing over, the lights on the dash illuminated his stress wrinkles and predominantly grey hair, and he casually turned onto my street to slow to a crawl. “I wonder what it’s about.”

“Whatever it is, it doesn’t sound like it has anything to do with Carlyle or the Syndicate. There’s no guarantee these girls even know who he is. There’s no guarantee that anythingweknow about him is even factual.” The dude was fucking loaded to Hell and back, and there was no way any single person was squeaky clean. Just because the girlfriend got a bomb delivered to her apartment didn’t mean it had anything to do with Carlyle. Sure, she was more accessible, but they’d only been dating a few weeks when that happened.

Then again, he was really quick to get everyone wrapped up and gone, and by the time we went back, the whole apartment had been cleaned out. There wasn’t even blast residue— it’d all been cleaned or taken away. The floors and walls had been redone. The manager of the place was paid off.

But being obscenely wealthy didn’t mean any of that meant he was trying to hide something.

Even if Carlyle was hiding something, that didn’t mean it was illegal, either. We were legitimately grasping at straws on a few coincidences.

“You’ve never been on a date, right? You should ask that guy out if you see him again. No one is safer than a cop, Natasha.”The hairs on my arms and face stood up at the sudden interruption to my thoughts, and Remmy barked out a laugh. Smacking the wheel with the butt of his palm, he came to a smooth stop on the curb in front of my house.

“No one is more dangerous, either, Illya.”

“You take that and let me know what freaky shit they talk about you, Erik.” Scowling darkly, I almost left the two-inch by two-inch contraption in the car, but there was a lot that text couldn’t convey. Popping open the door, I stepped out, and Remmy didn’t wait for me to get on the sidewalk before peeling off into the night. Watching his headlights dim before disappearing, I rubbed my jaw and neck furiously and inhaled a frigid breath.

“Well, even if you don’t, you have his coat now. And it’s a really, really nice coat.”

“Jesus Christ.” I didn’t become a cop to do this, and I glanced down at the object in my hand with disgust. “I’m gonna fucking quit by the time we even have a faint chance of finding out what’s going on inside the Syndicate.”

Trudging to my front door, I pulled my keys off my belt loop, and my scowl darkened. Just because the rash of executions of members started after that bomb didn’t mean Carlyle was involved. Maybe he just knew a guy and complained during a bro’s night. Maybe, those two girls were connected with someone else, and we just hadn’t dug deep enough. God only knew that all of our requests were taking forever to process, and then it’d be a couple more months before they even got glanced at.

This was bad. This was really, really bad.

5

Natasha

“Yes-s-s!” Popping up to dance around my chair, I punched the air and hummed a tune to myself. Fred and Marshal paused what they were doing, and I turned my laptop around to show off the screen. “I finally finished. It’s done. I mean, it’s far from done, but the infrastructure is there.”

“See what happens when you actually try to work instead of trying to procrastinate, Nat?” Sticking my tongue out at Fred, I braced my palms on both sides of my laptop, and his eyes narrowed on me. “You can’t leave yet.”

“Fred, come on! Let’s go get some pizza. Ipromiseto keep working when we get back.” Puffing out my lips, I grinned broadly when Marshal quickly agreed with me, and Fred defeatedly lifted his arm to check the time. “Besides, Valerie’s coming back tonight, and I may have finished the base, but I have to integrate her pictures and stuff, and she needs to be brought up to speed about the meeting we had, and—”

“Okay! Fine. We’ll go get some pizza.” Fist bumping the air, I pranced around my chair toward the door, and the guys rustled around me to follow. “You’re not gonna regret this.”

“Tell that to my work ethic.” Smiling broadly, I glanced over my shoulder as I pulled open the conference room door, and Fred rubbed both his hands on his face roughly. “I guess it wouldn’t be bad to go out, though. Working too much is bad.”

“You know, you may be onto something there, Fred.” Marshal clapped a hand on Fred’s shoulder, and excitement nibbled away at my gut. “I’m honestly tired of eating stuff I have to make myself. I suck ass at making anything more complicated than a grilled cheese.”

“Whatever. Just because I agree with you doesn’t mean I agree with you. We’re a little more behind than I’d like.” We walked toward the elevator leisurely, my spirits high, and I ran my hand through my hair as relief pushed a sigh from my lips. Finally, Fred would relent a little and give me a break.

Although, it wasn’t really Fred’s permission I needed. It was my own because I’d been using work to bury the fact that I fucked up. Rolling my lips between my face, shame flushed my face as memories played behind my eyes, and I tugged my jacket tighter around me.

Valerie was coming back, but that also meant Carlyle would be back . . . and he knew about the jacket. The microphone in the collar lit up the metal detector, and if I hadn’t tried to wear it across the bridge, I would’ve never known. Jerry took it and put it in a box, but he didn’t do anything else on Carlyle’s orders.

Worse than that . . . I was stupid for thinking Erik was just a nice cop. Even he, who I didn’t know at all, tried to use me.

Just like in Dallas.

Goosebumps blanketed my arms and across my chest under my sweater, and I frowned under deeply-knit brows. I’d made it a point to never talk about anything involving Carlyle to anyone, even other employees, and I was glad I had, but . . . what was he going to do about the lapse in security? Would he kick me out?

That’d just make Valerie and I fling farther apart.

I mean, how did Erik and whoever else was behind the jacket think that their plan would really work? Ignorance didn’t breed innocence, and I was just plain stupid.

“Hey, guys?” Once in the quiet of the elevator, I glanced over at Marshal and Fred and cleared my throat roughly. “When Carlyle gets back, I may need to find a new job. I’m gonna ask him to set you up with a better programmer than me.”