“After you,” I respond.
“It’s perfectly safe, Skye. His team knows we are coming. They won’t shoot at you.”
A shiver runs up my spine. Despite his words, I don’t feel safe. Just thinking about getting shot has my body locking up.
“Skye?”
“Hmm?”
“You can open the door.” For some unknown reason, I’m frozen, and I’m not sure what has come over me. My head throbs, and I close my eyes to push away the feeling weaving its way inside.
Unconsciously, I touch my tattoo. I rub it once, twice, and by the third swipe of my thumb, my heart rate calms. My breath comes out in slower bursts as I move past the panic that had built inside me. The door beside me swings open, and I open my eyes to see Tobias, arm extended, eyes staring at me, waiting for me to take his hand.
“Are you okay?” he asks. I’m confused by his change in behavior. For the time I have worked with him, he has been closed off. But now, having him ask me these questions, having him leaning down and staring at me, part of me feels as though he does genuinely care about my feelings. I don’t know him. But a part of me wants to get to know him. The only thing I know so far is that he doesn’t do anything legally. He makes mistakes left and right, and he needs a babysitter, but I also know he cares.
Maybe not necessarily for me, but when I get like this, he seems concerned.
His unwavering gaze does strange things to me. It feels like my face is warming. It’s growing hot, and if I had to harbor a guess, I’d say my face is beet red. A shade reserved for lipsticks one would wear to a gala or fashion show.
“I’m fine.” My voice comes out harsher than I want it to, but I’m already mortified. Telling him I temporarily freaked out for an unknown reason is too much to deal with right now.
He narrows his eyes. A line forms between his brow as he watches me. He’s trying to size me up. There is no getting away from his assessment, but eventually, after a few seconds, he nods, pushes his hand out farther toward me, and offers it again. This time, I don’t reject him. I’m still shaken by what just happened to me. That hasn’t happened since forever. It’s like I go off to a far-off place in my brain, then I don’t know why.
I take his hand and allow him to pull me from the seat and out of the car. My heels hit the pavement; the sound of gravel smashing is in the air. The moment I step out, the first thing that hits me is the smell of seawater. It’s like being on a boat when you’re surrounded by the ocean. I turn to look at the water, the way it crashes against the dock. It’s rough today, so a storm is probably brewing, making the day feel ominous.
I take a deep inhale, pulling the salty air into my lungs and then exhaling it out. Just this small moment does wonders to calm my nerves, and before long, I feel back to normal. I drop Tobias’s hand and take a step toward the warehouse. Tobias matches my pace, and together we make our way to the door.
“Will they just let us in?” I ask, staring up at where the snipers must be.
“Again, they know we’re coming. The door isn’t locked.”
“That doesn’t sound very safe.”
“Oh, it’s locked right now. Here, let me show you.”
The moment we make it to the front, Tobias points at the tiny camera above the door, then he looks right at it and nods his head. Only then do I hear the click.
“This place has high surveillance. No one is getting in or out without permission.”
His words don’t go over my head. No one is getting out. I am right to be afraid, but I won’t show him. I already revealed too much of my hand in the car. I hold my head up high, then reach out and open the door, ready to see what’s behind the curtain.
As I step through the entrance, the first thing I notice is that the air feels stiffer inside the warehouse. Or maybe that is just my nerves. The room is large and cavernous. A smell lingers in the air. It’s almost fruity, and I can’t pinpoint its origin.
My gaze drifts along the space, and on the far side of the room, I see men sitting around a table talking. There is nothing out of place. Nothing to indicate that this is a space used for illegal activity. Other than the random table, it’s vacant.
A man pushes back from the table.
The metal legs scratch the concrete as he makes his way to standing and heads over to us. The first thing I notice is how handsome he is. Not as good looking as Tobias, in my opinion, but I can totally see why a woman would fall under his spell.
Well, that would be before they realize who he is.
Hell, maybe even after.
Look at me. I know full well who Tobias is, and I can’t help that he makes my body warm. I have a strong desire to make him the star of my next midnight fantasy session.
Lucky for me, that hasn’t happened yet because I don’t know how I would ever look at him again if he starred in one.
Lorenzo crosses the space with a level of arrogance only present in a man who knows or, better yet, thinks he’s better than someone.
When he’s almost upon us, his stern features morph, and a wicked smirk spreads across his face. Then his gaze travels down my length, making the smile broaden.
“The lawyer,” he remarks, but there is no question. It’s a statement. “I can see why you hired her.”
That’s it. I am so sick of condescending, arrogant assholes. I step forward, meeting Lorenzo head-on.
“The lawyer has a name. She also has eyes.” I lift my hand. “Up here, buddy.”
A part of me expects Lorenzo to probably shoot me on the spot, and to be honest, my outburst, though warranted, might not have been one of my best ideas. Instead, Lorenzo throws his head back and laughs. “I like her already, Tobias.”
“I don’t need you to like her,” Tobias grits out, and I turn to look at him. His jaw is set tight, and he looks pissed. Surprise, surprise. This man has worse PMS than a fourteen-year-old girl.
“Then why is she here?”
“I’m here because, apparently, I’m his babysitter, and he can’t go anywhere without me,” I mutter under my breath, but my voice is loud enough that again, Lorenzo’s hearty laughter rings through the air.
“She’s your babysitter, eh? I think I have that movie on DVD somewhere around here.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
Tobias is clearly frustrated by Lorenzo, and it makes me wonder why. From what I have gathered, these men are friends. Why the attitude?
I’ve seen Tobias act nicer than this. Take me, for example. Sure, he’s not warm and fuzzy, but he did smirk. That one time.
Maybe he didn’t laugh, but the way he looked at me, I know there is more to Tobias than meets the eye. Why can’t he let go?
“Did I hit a nerve, Tobias?”
Tobias steps up to Lorenzo. They are around the same size, so I would clock them both close to six foot two, give or take an inch.
There is a stare down for a minute, and Lorenzo’s men stand from the table.
A full second goes by, or maybe it’s longer. Who knows? All I know is my heart is hammering in my chest a million times faster than normal.
The showdown continues, and I’m one hundred percent positive someone will draw a gun.
My hands are shaking at my sides, and I try desperately to ground myself. Tobias looks my way and then back at Lorenzo. Something must pass between them because Lorenzo steps in and throws an arm around his shoulders.