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Warrior: A Salvation Society Novel

Page 13

by A. M. Brooks


  “Cops and forensics are still doing their thing. It appears the assailant entered the back door by coercing an employee then knocked that person out once in the building and alarms were off. The employee has been taken to the hospital. Files are reportedly taken, hard drives destroyed and there was a threat to Dr. Taylor on the wall either in blood, paint, or something that looks like blood,” I rattle off the information. Zane grows tense next to me.

  Brody’s head tilts down. “We’re waiting still for images from forensics. What we have gathered, though, through a search of information we already had on the suspect is that Lukas Deverouix doesn’t truly exist. There is a component that was found by our computer forensics linking his file to other files that suddenly went dead. These other files are related to the members of our forces who either disappeared or are assumed dead after failed missions.” A guy two rows ahead raises his hand. “Go ahead.”

  “Sir, are you saying that the files are dead as in information stops generating?” The guy asks. And a few others perk up.

  “When these files die, they encrypt on themselves. Destroy themselves from the inside out. There is no information to keep gathering. If we didn’t also make paper copies, we would not have the same information,” Brody explains further. The white wall slides up and plastered on the board underneath are over fifty paper info sheets with pictures attached. They’re lined up and dating as far back as 2001.

  “Gentlemen, what I’m telling you is that these guys here,” he points to the board, “are the enemy. Terrorists that we seem to have grown here, who are trained and have the ability to take us out from the inside. Sending one into Cole Security, though, was a mistake on their part. I’ve been working on this case for the past few years. Each and every one of these individuals was part of a team of special ops or a sanctioned mission where we were mysteriously taken out. Only these guys were never found dead or alive amongst the other soldiers.”

  “What do we do now, Sir?” Zane asks, his hand in the air.

  “I coordinated a team that is already on its way to Deverouix’s last known residence. Once we have that and forensics from BBT then we’ll go from there. The mission has changed. We’re looking here on US soil rather than overseas,” Brody informs us. “You’re excused, gentlemen.”

  Everyone gets up slowly, many still processing. I shoot to my feet and head to the exit with Zane right on my heels.

  “Where are you going?” he asks, even though he already knows.

  “I’m not letting her stay alone tonight. And you would be smart to stay here instead of at the hotel where Deverouix knows we were all staying already.”

  “I planned to,” Zane huffs next to me, “Brody already said Lyric will have security detail.”

  “She was shaken up,” I tell him, keeping my voice lowered. “I need to at least check on her.”

  “Be safe.” Zane fist bumps me as we head in different directions.

  I didn’t let anyone stop me on the way out and no one tried. Lyric had texted me that she made it home, but I needed to see it with my own eyes. My hands needed to check the locks and the windows. I physically needed to check every nook and corner where someone could hide, then I needed Lyric to let me hold her like she did earlier. How I was always meant to. Today did nothing but cement in my mind how much I need this woman. No one can stop me. Not even Lyric.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Lyric

  Pacing back and forth in my living room does nothing to calm my nerves. My eyes constantly find the clock and see the minutes ticking by at a snail’s pace. My fingers touch my temples and rub in circles. Colt said he’s on the way, and even though it shouldn’t, that makes me extremely happy. The moment he showed up outside my office this morning, I felt safe and protected. He was my hero in that moment when I needed him most. I check the clock again and see that he should be here any minute. My heart stutters in my chest when a knock at the door sounds. On instinct, and probably riding the high from earlier today, I tense up, ready to run. My phone vibrates in my hand.

  Colt: I’m at the door, babe.

  I bolt to the door and unlock it, letting him in. The minute he steps over my threshold, I lock the door again before throwing myself into his arms. Colt doesn’t hesitate before wrapping his arms around me and pulling me close. I inhale his scent and tears instantly spring to my eyes.

  “Hey,” he says, gently pulling back, so he can cup my face in his hands, “I got you. I’ll stay as long as you need me.”

  My voice catches around the lump in my throat and I nod my head instead. Colt takes my hand and leads me to the kitchen. “You hungry? Did you eat yet?”

  “Uh no,” I shake my head, “I was too anxious earlier. Nothing sounds good except popcorn.”

  Colt smirks and heads to my pantry. “Popcorn it is then.” I watch in fascination as he takes a bag from the box and puts it in the microwave. He grabs the butter next and slides a slab into a separate cereal bowl before grabbing the salt and pepper. Memories of this same scene from years ago dance in front of my eyes, only this time, the usual bitterness that follows isn’t there. Just the longing in my heart that this is what life has always been. I missed this so much.

  “Want to watch a movie or just some junk tv?” Colt asks, suddenly pulling me from my daydream. He hands me the bowl before helping himself to two of the Tahitian Treat soda cans I keep stocked in the fridge.

  I smirk. “Making yourself at home, Street?”

  Colt laughs and our eyes meet across the room. Mischief dances in his and also a tinge of sincerity. He is attempting to make me feel as safe as possible and he’s succeeding. I follow him into the room and take a seat next to him on the couch. We settle for watching re-runs of Friends, which he knows will relax me the most, while we drink our sodas and share the popcorn. Colt and I fall easily into our old pattern of shouting lines we’ve memorized over the years, right when the characters say them. He does a great impersonation of Chandler until my stomach hurts from laughing so hard.

  “I like this,” I tell him honestly, my exhaustion starting to make me weak, gooey and susceptible to his charms.

  Colt chuckles slightly. “You make me gooey too, Taylor,” he says, and I can’t even bring myself to be embarrassed I said that out loud. My body has finally hit a wall. Colt laughs again, and I think I may have just done it again.

  After a few more episodes, my eyes feel heavy and they sting slightly from all the tears I cried. Colt adjusts so that my body can twist and I end up with my head on his shoulder. Such a Colt move, but I don’t mind. He’s warm and smells so damn good. My eyes flutter closed while I listen to the gentle rumble of laugher coming from Colt while he keeps watching. It’s soothing, and for the second time tonight, I get to envision what life could be like.

  “I like this too,” I hear him say, and I can’t help but smile.

  I’m being carried, wrapped in strong, comfortable arms that are bands of heat across my back. My eyes crack open and Colt’s throat is the first thing I see, then the hallway that leads to my bedroom. In another second, he lays me down on my queen-size bed and grabs the other edge of my comforter to cover me. Before he pulls away, my hand grabs his arm.

  “Will you stay here tonight, please?” I ask, still feeling too vulnerable to be alone.

  “Of course,” Colt says and bends to lay a soft kiss on my forehead. “I was already planning to anyway.”

  My eyes roll and I twist to my side. “Presumptuous much, Street?”

  He laughs, our gazes catching. “I’ll keep you safe, Taylor. Go to sleep.”

  I watch with a small smile on my lips as Colt leaves my room, keeping the door open, in case I need him. In the distance, I hear the TV shut off and the slight groan of my coach as he gets comfortable. Then it hits me. Colt Street is sleeping on my couch. He’s in my home and I like it. Even in the dark, with no one around to witness, my cheeks blush from the thought. Comforted and relaxed my eyes drift closed again. Sleep claims me easily, knowing that
my warrior is close by.

  I don’t wake again until almost dawn, when Colt nudges me gently. “Is everything okay?” My voice is groggy and my lips feel dry.

  “It’s fine,” Colt assures me, keeping his voice low. “I got a call from Zane. I need to head back in.”

  “Oh.” I push myself up, hating the swirl of nerves in my stomach. “Okay.”

  Colt smiles. “I checked the whole house, all the doors and windows. I only woke you up so you can lock the door behind me, then go back to bed. Wherever that guy is, Lyric, he’s long gone. He would be stupid to stay with the whole of Cole Security, not to mention the United States government after him.”

  I know he’s right, but I still can’t shake this feeling of dread. “I’ll be okay. Thank you so much.”

  “I would do anything for you, Lyric,” Colt tells me, his voice so raw that it causes goosebumps on my arms. “Come lock the door, babe.”

  I follow him out of my room and down the hallway. The clock in the living room reads five thirty and I realize we only had been sleeping for maybe three hours. “Are you sure you’re in any condition to work or even drive?”

  Colt smirks. “Trust me, I’ve operated just fine on days without sleep.”

  My nose scrunches at the idea. That sounds horrible and it’s another realization about the sacrifices he’s made over the years doing what he does.

  “Don’t worry about me,” Colt catches my hand, a smile on his lips, “go back to bed and get some rest.”

  I nod in agreement, my mind still thousands of miles away, picturing Colt’s life while he did his tours and service overseas. An ache in my chest blooms just thinking about the time and holidays he probably missed. “Thank you,” I tell him again, hoping he knows that I literally mean for everything, staying with me tonight so I felt safe, just being the cherry on the top.

  With one last slow grin, Colt steps out my door and closes it behind him. I rush to turn the lock and run back to bed. I lock my bedroom door as well. Now that Colt isn’t here, the silence feels louder. Sighing, I turn on the TV in my room and flip to the weather channel before turning down the volume to a level I can sleep to. The background noise eventually drowns out my thoughts and I’m able to fall back asleep.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Lyric

  It takes a week before I can access my office again to resume normal business hours. Luckily, I was able to switch my schedule around for clients. It was almost as if everyone was aware of what had occurred and they understood. Every night for the past week, either Colt or Zane has been sleeping on my couch. I’m not sure how comfortable that is, but they both assured me it’s fine. Colt Security has been running intel and having secret meetings that I’m not privy to everyday. The guys are often called back and leave in the middle of the night. They’re going on minimal sleep while I’ve been sleeping like the dead. It also helps to know that an unmarked car sits down the road from my house every night, doing surveillance and perimeter checks, if one of the guys asks for it. All of this has been done in order to help me feel safe.

  Even though Colt just left and I waved at the unmarked car, my first day back has me feeling on edge. My imagination runs wild and I swear I feel eyes on me. It feels like I’m being watched every time I head to my vehicle. “You’re paranoid, Lyric,” I tell myself, once I’m buckled in and heading toward the office. I blast the music a little extra loud just to help distract my mind.

  After parking in the back by the employee entrance, I take a minute to steel my nerves. Ruby hops out of her vehicle at the same time and I exhale a slow breath.

  “Hey!” she calls, waving her hand, a tilted smile on her face.

  “Morning,” I say as I approach and try to give her a reassuring smile of my own.

  “Hope you don’t mind I waited.” Ruby bounces on her feet and I notice the stress crease on her forehead. We’re both a little nervous to be back.

  I give her a genuine smile. “No worries. Let’s get the first steps over with.”

  We head over to the door and I use my key to unlock it. Ruby is right behind me, locking the door once we’re in. I make my way into the front lobby to the alarm and punch the code in. The slight buzzing noise stops. My eyes dart around the room. Nothing appears out of the ordinary. Ruby starts opening the blinds and unlocks our front door. I turn to the computers and fire them up for the day. My fingers lightly stroke under the desk where our brand-new panic button sits, courtesy of Cole Security.

  “You okay?” I ask Ruby as she takes her usual seat, her eyes landing on Scott’s chair.

  “I will be,” she replies, her face looking determined. “You have a full schedule today, Dr. Taylor.”

  I nod my head with the reminder. “I think it will do us both good to stay busy today.” With a small wave, I head in the direction of my office. Stepping inside, I automatically pick up on the smell of cleaning chemicals and fresh paint. The hideous message that had been plastered on my wall with red a week ago is now gone. My desk is spotless with a brand-new computer on it. I slide into the chair and get everything going. When I glance behind me, I do a double take at the photographs sitting on the ledge. The same Bama Alumni photo is still there, only next to it now sits a childhood picture of Zane, Colt and myself. I pick up the wood frame and lightly touch the image. Our faces are frozen in a moment of childhood glee, before we knew heartbreak or love. Pure friendship radiates off that photo. I reach for my cell phone and text a message to Zane, the only one sentimental enough to have done this.

  Lyric: Thank you…

  Zane: ;)

  His response is immediate, as if he was expecting to hear from me. I smile and feel a little better about being back in my office today. The morning flies by, with client after client. The busier I get, the easier it is to push down the continued feeling of being watched.

  “Hey Lyric,” Ruby says my name, before sticking her head into my office.

  I glance up from the file I’m going over, my next client who is in need of services for a law enforcement recruiting agency. “Yeah?”

  “Uh,” she looks back before stepping into my office and closing the door, “You’re two o’clock is here.”

  “Already?” I question, looking at my watch and seeing it’s only quarter after one. Ruby looks pale when I look at her again. “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s just,” she looks back at the door, “he just gives me a weird vibe. I know it’s public knowledge about the break in, but he keeps asking questions.”

  My brow rises. “It says he’s applying for law enforcement, maybe he’s just curious.”

  “Maybe,” she answers, her eyes narrowed in concentration, “I don’t know. I don’t get the best feeling around him. Plus, he’s here really early.”

  “Could be he forgot his time and wanted to make sure he wasn’t late.” I shrug, trying to remain calm.

  “Yeah,” Ruby agrees, even with some hesitancy in her voice. “Should I let him in early then?”

  “Sure.” I shrug, putting down the bag of peanuts I was snacking on.

  Ruby leaves my office and I try not to let the tendrils of doubt she’s sown into my brain blossom. A few seconds later, I hear her voice chatting down the hallway as she brings the client in. “This is Dr. Taylor’s office.”

  I stand from my seat, right as he steps into the room. I notice his impressive height first, followed by the frostiness in his gray-blue eyes. His dark hair is skillfully and sharply brushed back from his face, and he wears a business casual suit. “I’m Dr. Taylor,” I introduce myself, holding my hand out. He shakes my hand with his and I notice the cold of his touch.

  “Malik Carlson,” he replies and sits down across from me at the desk.

  I pull out his file and begin with my normal series of questions, including his current state of employment, goals and where he is located, geographically. “I’m sorry, but is there any way we can get to the exam now?”

  I sit back in my chair and contemplate his reaction. For
the first time, I start to get the same feeling as Ruby. “This is the usual process I use Mr. Carlson, and the one that your superior requested.”

  His hands steeple in front of him, his chin resting on his fingertips. “You certainly are professional, Dr. Taylor. Tell me, do all superiors usually defer to you as an expert on one’s character with these questions?”

  I bristle under his hard stare. “Considering my education and the extensive training I have done with law enforcement, first responders, and military, yes, they do.”

  “And tell me, how do they feel if you deviate from what it is you’re actually trained to do?” he asks, a slight edge to his tone.

  I run my hands over my coat and sit up straighter in my chair. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mr. Carlson.”

  We eye each other, both of us refusing to blink. After several seconds pass, he sits back and lets out a small chuckle. “May I use your restroom quick? I think all the stress is getting to me.”

  “Sure.” I stand and walk over to the door. Malik follows me and steps into the hallway. “It’s the third door on the left.” He takes off down the hall and I walk out front to reception. That icky feeling I had from the morning races up my spine, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

  “Hey Ruby,” I say, stepping next to her desk.

  “Hmm?” She stops typing to look up at me. Whatever she sees in my face causes her own frown to return.

  “Can you,” I stop, and twist my words around in my head. Am I actually going to do this? Maybe I’m being paranoid? “Can you call Cole Security please and leave a message for Brody with the client’s info?”

  “Sure.” Ruby reaches for her phone.

  “Also…” I stop, really debating on if I need to go this far. It could potentially do damage my own credibility. I blow out a breath and lower my voice. “Call Chesapeake PD and ask for Captain Garcia. I want to do a follow-up with him.”

 

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