Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 51589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 258(@200wpm)___ 206(@250wpm)___ 172(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 258(@200wpm)___ 206(@250wpm)___ 172(@300wpm)
“Make me pasta later, and I will,” I countered.
“Fine.”
“That angel-hair with the lemon cream sauce?” I asked hopefully.
He smiled, leaning forward and tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Whatever you want, sweetheart.”
I picked up the sandwich, not letting him know I would eat it simply because he asked, even if he didn’t make me pasta.
I didn’t want him to know just how strong his power over me was.
The next day, I followed him down the stairs, staying close. At the door, I focused my attention on his fingers, watching carefully as he keyed in the numbers.
In the command room, I sat and talked to Damien, half listening as Marcus, Egan, Leo, and two other members of the team plotted out the next takedown. I didn’t know them as well, but they seemed proficient and intelligent. As with all the team, they had an air of intensity about them.
“We’re one hundred percent?” Marcus asked. “Certain of all of it?”
“Yes.”
“We have the building bugged. I heard some chatter—they’re expecting a few more ‘packages’ tonight. The last ‘shipment,’ they called it,” Leo said with a grimace.
“Okay, so we go tomorrow.” He glanced at Egan. “Everything ready?”
“You know it. In and out, save the day, then bye, bye, bye.”
Marcus narrowed his eyes in my direction, and I dropped my head down, focusing on the paper in front of me. I hated it when he left. I knew the dangers he faced. I saw the guns and weapons these people kept. How dangerous they were. From the moment he left until he walked back in the door, I paced and worried. Sofia was there, or he left one of his men to watch over me, but it didn’t help. His team were professionals. They knew what to do, when to do it, and how to come out of the missions alive and, most times, unhurt. But the wild card factor of not knowing how prepared the enemy was always lingered. The thought of him hurt, or worse, terrified me.
I looked up to see him watching me with an understanding look on his face. He crossed the room, standing behind me, his hand resting on my shoulder.
“Nice doodles.”
The page was covered in my scribbles. He chuckled. “Still thinking of that silly movie you watched last night?”
I had sketched out the word Xanadu, using the same font the movie title was made from. I added a pair of skates and some hearts in my squiggles. I had to join in his amusement. “I guess so.” I tended to doodle mindlessly when upset. “It’s a classic,” I argued.
“Classic shit,” he mumbled.
Damien chuckled. “You’re right on that one.”
Marcus squeezed my shoulder. “Got everything you need?”
That was his way of telling me it was time to go. With a sigh, I stood. “Thanks, Damien.”
“No problem.” He handed me a list. “Here are some other places to check.”
I nodded, taking the list and scanning it. The internet had two faces—the side most people saw, social media, helpful sites, information, great technology. The other side—the dark one, was enough to make your skin crawl. I shifted through so much horror and saw the worst of mankind’s atrocious behavior as I tried to find hints of this Xander to help Marcus and his team. Every day, I understood Marcus’s passion a little more, as well as his desire to protect me from all of it.
I gathered up my files and left. I headed upstairs, my footsteps heavy. In the apartment, I stared out at the city below, looking at the people coming and going, busy with their lives. Unseeing of the horrors that were all around them. Unconscious of the pain and strife many lived with.
I leaned my head on the glass, wishing I had never had to know about either.
I startled when Marcus appeared behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and drawing me back to his chest. He met my eyes in the reflection in the glass.
“Too much today, sweetheart?”
I nodded, unable to speak.
“That’s enough for now.”
“You’re going tomorrow?”
He turned me in his embrace, holding me close. He tilted up my chin and dropped a kiss to my mouth. “I’ll be home tomorrow as well. We have this.”
“I hate it,” I whispered. “I hate the feeling when you walk out that door and I know you’re facing danger.”
He stroked my cheek. “I’m not used to someone worrying about me.”
I covered his hand, turning my head and kissing the palm. “I do.”
He bent, brushing a kiss to my lips, his lingering. “I’ll be fine. Do you know why?”
“Because you’re a professional?”
He chuckled low. “Yes. Plus, I know you’re here. Waiting for me.”
With a whimper, I flung my arms around his neck, pulling him down to my mouth. He tugged me to his chest, his kiss firm and claiming. Deep and carnal. Sweeping away any and all thoughts except those of him. Us.