Reading people was part of my training, their eye movements, gestures, the slightest shift in weight, and London was an open book with the pages filled with big bold writing.
The last day I’d been with her… her standing beside the table at her loft, me standing on the other side of the room having just gotten off the phone with Chaos—Georgie. I saw the realization in her eyes that this was more than some deal.
It was the end to what never had the chance to begin. But fuck, for a split second, I wanted to hold onto her and stay.
But staying was never an option. I’d already broken the cardinal rule and become too close.
I leaned forward, the black leather couch crinkling and rested my elbows on my thighs and put my head in my hands, gripping my hair.
“Shit.” This wasn’t supposed to go down like this.
Mother had wanted London ‘hurt’ as a warning to Dr. Westbrook. I said I’d look after the situation and I had, just not how she would’ve liked or expected. I hadn’t planned on what happened between us. I was simply going to scare her into remaining silent because there was no way in hell I’d do what Mother wanted.
The ties surrounding me were cruel and unbreakable, and London’s fate was already balancing on a tightrope because my gut was telling me that Mother knew what I’d done.
I came to my feet and paced the length of my study. The warning siren blared in my head getting louder and louder each day I stayed away. It was the same feeling I had when the fire went down in that shitty house London lived in with her friends.
I’d been on my way back to the airport after checking on Dr. Westbrook’s progress on the drug and then spending a few hours watching London as she studied in the library. I’d followed her home and waited until I saw her light turn off in her bedroom before I drove off. Maybe it was purely instinct, maybe it was my obsession getting stronger. Whatever it was, I turned the car around twenty minutes later and went back.
The entire way I was convinced it would be the last time. I’d say goodbye. I’d stop coming to see her. But when I was a few miles away and saw the smoke, I knew. In my fuckin’ gut, I knew it was her house and for the first time since I was a kid, my heart raced so fast it hurt.
I drove like a maniac.
I swore and cursed.
I didn’t stop when I pulled up to the house. I drove right through the back fence and used the hood of my car to reach the ledge of her window and pull myself up to where her room was located. I heard the fire trucks screaming as they drew closer, but the crackle of the fire roared in my head much louder. I wrapped my hand in my shirt then smashed my fist right through her window.
I climbed inside, the jagged pieces of glass cutting into my arms, chest and thighs. For a minute, I couldn’t see a fuckin’ thing as I was engulfed by smoke and heat. But I didn’t have to see or go far when my foot hit the body. I crouched. The smoke wasn’t as thick lower down and that was when I saw her. It was the first fuckin’ time I cared if someone lived or died.
It was the first time I felt as if I had a heart because the thing stopped. It stopped until I pressed my palm to her chest and felt her heartbeat. I picked her up and went out the way I came in.
I carried her to the neighbor’s backyard then gently laid her on the grass. Her eyes opened briefly and if I hadn’t been on my knees, I would’ve been brought to them just seeing her look at me.
I held her for a minute, my finger brushing her hair from her face. She coughed and coughed and I held her, rubbing her back as she sucked in the fresh air. When she finally caught her breath, she tilted her head and our eyes met. That was when I said, “I’ll always come for you, braveheart.”
Her brows lowered and she tried to say something before she coughed again and closed her eyes, lying limp in my arms. I noticed a fireman look in my direction, so I let her go, jogged back to my car and left.
That was when I hired Ernie to watch her. Of course, the only way to appear as if he wasn’t watching her was to be disguised as a homeless guy.
My cell vibrated on the coffee table, jiggling a few inches across the smooth, hard surface. I stared at the blinking screen, unable to see the number, but I didn’t have to. It was the cell phone I had that only one person had the number to.
I reached across, picked it up and then pressed the green circle on the screen before placing it to my ear. “Ernie.”
“No show this morning, boss.”
The storm pushed into me and my hand tightened on the phone. If I were forced to trust anyone, it was Ernie. He wasn’t part of Vault, but knew about them. As an ex-Navy SEAL, he knew about loyalty. Plus, I paid him a shitload of money.
My jaw clenched. “She sick?”
Ernie hesitated; he was a straight-up guy so this cemented the fact that what I was about to hear wouldn’t be good. “Got that feeling. No movement in her windows all morning. Got here around six and left last night after eight. Boss, the window’s closed.”