Page 25 of Splintered Security (Aspen & Evergreen #2)
caveman happy
Ren
I wake to an empty bed. Not that I’m used to a woman in my bed or anything that entails, but Anni’s absence is noteworthy.
I shuck off the covers and listen for any indication from Anni that something is amiss.
The smell of coffee leads me to the kitchen and a full pot of coffee.
This is a first. I haven’t had coffee made for me since mess in the Army.
I make a cup before finding my wife on the back porch, lazing in a chair. She turns when the slider scrapes across the rails.
“Good morning, Wife.”
A smile plays across her mouth and shines in her eyes. “Good morning, Husband.” She takes a big gulp of coffee, hiding her smile.
“How did you sleep?”
“Like a boulder.”
I sit in the chair next to her. “Multiple orgasms will do that to you. ”
“Well, now we know the secret to curing insomnia.”
“Now we know,” I repeat, taking a big pull of my coffee. “Mornings are my favorite.”
“I bet you like Mondays too.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Morning people and Monday-lovers are just wired differently.”
“Mornings are for fresh starts and do-overs. Mondays are the same.”
“Aha. I knew you would be a Monday apologist.” She puts her mug to lips and mutters, “Morning people” while shaking her head.
We drink our coffees and enjoy the crisp morning.
“I need to work today. It won’t be all day, but I need to follow up with my team after last Wednesday. Check in on them and reassign where I can. I don’t like my guys going without a paycheck when I can help.”
She looks at me quizzically. “I assumed they worked for Queen City.”
“They do, or rather for Barone Hospitality which is an umbrella corp over the restaurants and bars. But I lead the team, so I need to make sure they have what they need and can get their hours. The owner will make sure they’re paid, but I need to do my part.”
“Wow. I didn’t consider what all of this would mean for you.”
“We have a lot to learn about one another, but work isn’t the most important part of that.” I grab her hand and pull it to my mouth, kissing the back of it. “You good if I go in and get after it.”
“Yeah. I’m going to follow you in to grab another cup, though I’m going to come back out here for a little while. It’s peaceful.”
“Mornings always are.” I pull open the slider and step back, allowing her in ahead of me.
“Whatever. Not going to make a morning person out of me no matter how hard you try.”
I spank her ass as she passes. “A man can dream.”
I hear my phone ding in the bedroom and grab it on my way down the hall to my office.
Marissa: I found your guys. It’s best to email since it’s a lot. I generally don’t comment on the subjects of my research, but can I just say these are not the sharpest tools in the shed?
I consider messing with her, telling her they’re business partners or something.
That thought causes me to stop in my tracks.
I don’t joke. Maybe with a couple of buddies from the military, but not since.
Anni might be lightening me up. I don’t know what to think of that, but joking with a random hacker acquaintance wasn’t on my bingo card.
Me: Glad to have it confirmed. How did you get it done that fast?
Marissa: Caffeine and lack of sleep. Oh, and phoning it in at my day job. You said it was important.
Me: It is. Thanks.
I add my email address and hit send.
Me: Give Morris shit for me.
Marissa: You might be a new favorite. Will do. {Smiley emoji with glasses}
I force myself to look at the schedules of each of the restaurants in the hospitality group and with Barone’s personal team. I call each guy with their new temporary assignments, only losing one to a competitor. Leave it to a bomb to cause a staff reduction.
Once that’s done, I notify HR and payroll and contact each establishment’s manager to inform them of supplemental security coming to their location.
Only then do I open my email. It was perfect motivation to get my shit done so I can move on to what matters most.
What I find blows me away. Full dossiers exist for Smith, Conyers, and Giltenhouse.
If I didn’t know better, I’d think Marissa Torres was more than a hacker.
How can one person know all of this about another individual?
I could probably ask for dental records and she’d provide them.
Maybe later, when they’re trying to identify the bodies.
It would be nice if they needed dental records to identify them. But I won’t go that far. I’m lethal, not maniacal. Get in, do what needs to be done, and get out. That’s it.
What I read in their files isn’t chilling or even particularly scary. Stupid, arrogant men are the worst combination. Their pride thinks they’re untouchable, and they don’t have the self-preservation to set ego aside.
Lucky for me, I’m neither. I know my strengths and I play to them. And on Sunday morning, those strengths will prey on the Lost Mountain Rebels trio and make sure that Annika is never again threatened.
… And that August’s death is avenged.
At one in the afternoon, my stomach growls. Not only am I hungry, but I can smell something delicious cooking. I might as well be those cartoon characters whose noses lead them floating down the hall.
I enter the kitchen to witness Anni dancing at the sink while washing lettuce.
“Hey.”
She jumps and screams, her hand to her chest. “You scared me.”
I put my hands up in a don’t-shoot gesture. “Sorry. I wasn’t sneaking up on you. What are you making?”
“Enchiladas. They’re in the oven. I needed to finish the cold stuff, then I was going to bring you a plate. Do you want a fried egg on yours?”
I tilt my head sideways. “What?”
“I saw it somewhere and tried it once. It works. The flavors do. I can’t say it’s authentic. I don’t really know, but it’s good.”
“Sure, Sunshine. Egg me.”
The smile on her face is worth the weird combo .
She finishes the lettuce, tomato, and cilantro, and grabs the egg carton from the fridge just as the oven timer dings.
“Can I help?”
“Sit right there.” She grabs the oven mitts. “I’ve got it. What do you want to drink?”
“Water’s fine.”
She cracks the eggs in the pan and grabs two glasses from the cabinet, loading them up and setting them on the bar.
When the enchiladas are ready, she plates them with the salad before sliding a perfectly fried, but still runny, egg on top of the meal.
“Bon appetit.” She takes a stool with a plate identical to mine.
“In less than a week, I have a wife, barefoot and in the kitchen, making me food.” I drop my voice. “Caveman happy.”
Her responding laugh echoes through the kitchen and into the recesses of my soul.
The meal is good. Anni in my house is better than good. Leaning over, I take her lips in a quick, open-mouthed kiss. “I’m glad you’re here.”
She holds my eyes. “Me, too, Ren. Me too.”
I manage to get a new screen put on my wife’s old phone in the afternoon. I also manage not to come unglued at the messages that have racked up since the night I smashed it on the tile floor.
I’m only patient because I need the evidence. I need the reminder. And I need the bait. I flip it onto airplane mode and set it in my desk drawer when I get home.
I didn’t need more motivation to eliminate Giltenhouse.
Anni’s stories were enough. August was more than enough.
But Heath’s own messages are pure kindling.
They stoke the flickers of malice that spark in me.
I itch for Sunday morning to come and come quickly.
I cannot wait to let this rage blaze into an inferno that consumes the Lost Mountain Rebels.
Just a few more days.