A brisk knock at the door steals our attention. Rodriguez answers it. I’m surprised to see it’s my longtime friend and colleague, Agent Jones. As always, he’s dressed simply but impeccably, wearing a standard pressed gray suit.
I stand up and extend my hand to greet him. “Jones, it’s good to see you. I had no idea you were working on this case.” His dark hand folds around mine. Jones has the build of a linebacker, stands a head taller than me and looks like he could chew bad guys up and spit them out just as quick. Not for the first time, I decide I’m glad he’s on my side.
“Farrington’s a high-profile case. I asked to get in on the action,” he says. Then he gives me a pointed stare followed by a sardonic smile. “Speaking of Farrington, she’s asking to see you.”
Rodriguez rolls his eyes.
“It’s hard work being a hero. You know, I think it’s a good time for you to get that nicotine fix,” I say to him. Then to Jones, “Let’s go.”
Rachel
I’m embarrassed that I even asked for Ryder to be brought in. I only saw him once more during the extensive questioning, but knowing he was still close by was comforting.
I can’t believe I doubted him now that everything’s said and done. In the moment, everything was just so surreal, and I couldn’t process it all. I was so sure he was crazy—that he was letting paranoia get to him and was racing me straight toward an early death. Of course, he was right all along.
Now, embarrassment doesn’t even come close to the mortification I feel as he walks through the studio-apartment-slash-military-barracks room where I’m pacing the floors. His presence unnerves me in so many ways.
“Hey.” I can feel my face flush under his gaze.
“Farrington,” he says. His voice is low and sounds like it’s being sifted through gravel. It’s sexy and deep and makes my lady parts ache. “Why aren’t you asleep yet?”
Ryder is a man that misses nothing. He looks completely at ease here in this place—he’s relaxed, and his demeanor immediately makes me feel the same.
“Can I talk to you over here for a moment?” I ask him.
There’s no privacy in this space, and the guards aren’t going to give us any. We step over to the cramped kitchenette that’s adjacent to the bedroom—that’s adjacent to everything else.
I stand there awkwardly with Ryder just one foot away from me. His frame towers above mine, his body seems indestructible and strong and I want to hide within his arms as if he were my own protective shell. How did I ever doubt this man?
I know what I want to ask, but the thought is halted. I peer around the room—my assigned FBI agents are being casual, playing cards, watching out the window, looking at the television—but it’s not enough . . . intimacy.
“Come into the bathroom.” I grab Ryder’s arm and drag him through the door into the tight space where he crams his body against the sink.
I sardine in with him and close the door.
His eyes hold deep concern. “Are you alright?”
No. I am definitely not alright.
We’re pressed so close together—I hadn’t thought of that when I brought him in here—now my own tension is even thicker and my mind becomes foggy.
I open my mouth to speak, but his nearness renders me incoherent.
“You’re not alright.” Ryder gazes down at me with tenderness.
“I’m terrified,” I whisper.
“And you’re exhausted,” he confirms.
His breath smells good—like fresh mint toothpaste. His body gives off the scent of soap, and he’s in fresh clean clothes—a simple black t-shirt and military camo pants.
He radiates a heat my body and senses crave. Ryder says something, but I don’t hear the words, instead my eyes close with the timbre of his voice as it washes over me. I want to crush myself against his thick chest and stay hidden there until all of this is over.
“Ryder, you do know I’m a psychology student, and I realize this is probably terribly unhealthy but I—” My throat constricts, and I try to swallow the lump that forms, without success.
He leans his body forward and opens his arms—an invitation.
A strangled moan of relief breaks through my chest. His sweet invitation and acceptance are all I need to fold into him—into his rugged, gritty strength, into his immense and undauntable power.
He blankets me within his embrace.
In that moment I feel like I’m floating away, higher than I’ve ever been, filled with helium, even while I experience an anchoring to him as if I’m a ship moored to his docks.
The sensation is deliciously indescribable.