Font Size
Line Height

Page 9 of The Flame of Carson (Blackout Security Inc. #3)

––––––––

S tacey slipped from the bed and smiled when she turned.

Gage lay on his back, one arm draped over his face and the other across his waist. He was a beautiful sight, and he was all hers.

Stacey grabbed up Gage's shirt on her way out of the room.

She made her way downstairs thinking over the events of last night.

For hours Gage had made love to her. Slow and tender, hot and fierce, a mixture of both.

Damned if the man wasn't inventive in bed.

She giggled while making coffee. Today, being Sunday, she and Gage were just going to hang out at her place for the day watching movies.

And probably another round or two of hot sex.

As the coffee brewed, she began pulling out a pan, eggs, bacon, and bread.

She had just finished whisking the eggs when her cell went off.

Groaning, she reached for her cell in the charging dock on the counter.

“Hello?”

“Hey Stacey.”

“Hey Walt. Um, why the hell are you calling me at...” glancing at the clock, “eight fifteen on a Sunday?"

“Look, I know it's early there but... well...”

“Spit it out Walt,” Stacey said, her stomach clenching as she flipped the bacon. “What's going on?”

“Your friend sent me an email yesterday. ” Walt blurted out.

“He did what?” Stacey demanded.

“ Yesterday I had run to the office to do some work on an upcoming lecture I’m giving at NYU and there was an email waiting for me. He said that he would find you and that I was to blame.” Walt explained.

Stacey closed her eyes as anger coursed through her.

“I'm guessing you already talked to Sherman about this, or else you wouldn't have called me.

Look, I want you to watch your back, okay.

This guy is hiding behind a false name and emails.

He hasn't made physical contact except for sending me those flowers and I wouldn't call that physical exactly. Again, he's hiding.”

“I agree. Sherman and the feds said the same. I just thought I'd fill you in and tell you to watch yourself. Sherman also said the Feds said if you receive anything from him there to go to the local Federal building, then go to the Austin PD and have them get in touch with Sherman. ”

“I will. Luckily, I know two agents here in Austin. They are friends of Krista and her brother Danny. I promise if he contacts me or sends anything I'll go straight there.” Stacey paused as she heard the shower upstairs turn on. “Look, I got to run. Gage is here and I haven't told him.”

“What! Dammit Stacey, when you took that job, you said you would tell him about this .” Walt hissed.

Stacey released her breath and tugged at her ponytail. “I know, I know. I wasn't going to but now that this asshat is emailing you, I have to. Fuck,” She could just feel the tension working its way into her shoulders. “I'll tell him today. I promise.”

“ You better or else I'll tell him. ” Walt threatened. “ Stacey, you're not just my employee, you're also my friend. I don't want you to be put in the same mess that Krista was two years ago. Okay?”

“I hear you; I hear you. I'll call you in the morning once I get to my office. I'll talk to you later Walt.” Stacey said, then disconnected the call.

Taking the bacon from the pan, she reached for the bowl of eggs. She was just pouring the eggs into the pan when Gage walked into the kitchen wearing a pair of faded jeans. She giggled at his perplexed expression.

“I was wondering where these jeans went. How the hell do you have them?” Gage asked, walking to the coffee pot.

“Well big boy, when you visited in April you must have missed them when you were packing up. I found them in my hamper two days after you left and decided to hang onto them. Good thing too, otherwise you'd still be wearing the jeans you wore yesterday.” Stacey grinned, stirring the eggs.

Gage moved behind her and dropped a kiss on the side of her neck. “You have a point there babe.” He moved to stand beside her, leaning against the counter. “As I was coming down did I hear you on the phone?”

Shit. Stacey's shoulders slumped. “Yeah, that was Walt in New York.”

Gage's eyes narrowed at the change in her body language and expression. “Stacey, what's wrong?”

“Can you start the toast please? I'll tell you as we eat,” she replied, looking up at him. “Gage, please. I promise I'll tell you, but let's have that conversation over food. Okay?”

Gage took a moment to settle himself. Nodding, he grabbed the bread and headed for the toaster.

Something was wrong and he knew it. Yet, he also knew Stacey and if she said they'd talk over food she meant it.

That didn't mean he had to like waiting.

Trying to keep the million scenarios out of his mind, he focused on their toast. Ten minutes later, they were seated at the kitchen island eating.

Gage kept casting sidelong glances at Stacey as she ate, doing his best not to push her before she was ready to speak.

Finally, she sat her coffee mug down, let out a slow breath and spoke.

“Seems that I've made an enemy.”

Gage sat there stunned. An enemy? Stacey? “What the hell? What do you mean an enemy Stacey?”

“It started about seven maybe eight months ago. As you know, I'm one of seven senior editors at Walter & Jackson,” she paused as he nodded. “So, I got this email. I thought it was just another manuscript. It wasn’t. It was a simple message saying that I would know what it was like to feel pain. To suffer.”

“Excuse me?” Gage questioned, struggling to tamp down the anger he felt building.

“I was confused thinking maybe it was just some cruel joke or even an email sent by mistake. I’ve got those before.

You know a name spelled wrong, or the server wrong.

I called Walt in for him to look at it. He forwarded it to himself and told me to save it.

Just in case this was not a joke. I did.

” Stacey stopped and took a long drink from her mug.

“I didn't think anything of it after that. The next week there was another email from him. Elaborating on the first one. This continued for the month of May. In June, he stepped it up a notch. I still got the emails, but on June fifth, I found a vase of roses on my desk With the roses sprayed painted black.”

Gage could feel the rage beginning to boil inside him. Some lunatic was threatening his woman, oh he wasn't having that. “How many times has he sent you the roses?”

“I've gotten a dozen spray painted roses every fifth of the month since June.

So that means, four times. By the fifth of October, I was already employed here in Austin and was no longer going to the office since I was packing up for the move.

If I did get any on October fifth, Walt hasn't said.

I'm betting I did though. This guy is nothing if not meticulous.” Stacey answered.

Gage slid off the stool to his feet and began pacing.

His mind running so fast he could barely keep up.

He had to protect Stacey. He would be damned if she found herself in the same place Krista had been the previous year.

Of course, he wasn't so sure he could stay as calm as Ethan had, in public at least with the same thing happening to Stacey. He stopped pacing and faced Stacey.

“So, what happened that had Walt calling you this morning?” he demanded, shocked at the levelness of his voice.

“Yesterday the fucker emailed Walt. After I accepted the position here, my old editor email in New York was deleted and a new one created for me here in Austin.

Except for Krista and a few others, my existing clients were redistributed between the other editors in New York.

He basically told Walt that he would find me and that it would be Walt's fault.” Stacey explained.

“Fuck.” Gage growled, his fingers sinking into his hair. “Okay, are the FBI involved or just NYPD?”

“Both. Detective Raymond Sherman at NYPD has reached out to the cyber division of the FBI since this guy is communicating strictly through email.

Even the roses are ordered electronically with the special instructions for them to be spray painted black and it's never the same florist either.” Stacey said.

“Tomorrow when you go in, I'm taking you. Then I'm going to...”

“Whoa there big boy.” Stacey interrupted. He watched as she slipped off her own stool and walked to him. “You're jumping the gun here.”

“The hell I am!” Gage yelled. “No mother fucker is going to threaten my woman. You hear me?”

“Dammit this is why I didn't want to tell you!” She shot back.

Gage just stood there as she threw her hands up in the air before storming out of the kitchen.

About a minute later, he heard a door upstairs slam shut followed by the pounding rhythm of Eminem.

Oh, she was pissed right now. Feeling like an idiot, he set about cleaning up the kitchen, giving her time to cool off before he went upstairs to try and dig himself out of the hole, he now found himself in.

––––––––

––––––––

S tacey looked up as her office door opened. Gage walked in holding a cup of coffee and single rose from the bush in the back yard. She crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair, lifting a brow.

“Okay, I'm an ass.” he sighed.

“Yeah, and?” she countered.

“I'm sorry. Sorry, I lost my cool downstairs. I... look, I watched my best friend go through this shit almost two years ago with Krista and I don't think I can handle that.” he added.

Stacey's heart melted and she blew out a long breath.

“Gage, baby, I didn't tell you about this BECAUSE of what happened to Krista.

Hell, I haven't even told her about it and she's one of my best friends. All she knows is, Walt offered me this job after Jerry died, which is true. I turned it down. Again true. I told her I finally accepted because New York wasn't the same without Jerry and because my own parents had moved. That’s partially true.”

Ad If ads affect your reading experience, click here to remove ads on this page.