The room was barely bigger than a closet. As Duncan shut the door behind him, he had to press too close to her to manoeuvre the door past him. She shivered again, this time not from the cold.
Mandy drew her anger around her like a cloak, warding herself against her reaction to him.
“What did I do this time?” he asked, flippant.
Mandy gritted her teeth. “I am presuming that the name Beaton Security means something to you?”
“Our competitor?” He sounded surprised, no trace of guilt on his features. He was getting good at lying to her.
“Yes. They paid me a visit just now.”
A slight from tugged at his brow. “Okay?”
“Any idea what they might have wanted to talk about?”
He shook his head. “I can’t imagine. Don’t suppose they made an offer on the company?”
“No,” she spat. “They did not make an offer on the company.”
She paused. Breathed deep. Brought herself back under control. “They claimed they were robbed last night. Would you know anything about that?”
His frown deepened. “Why would I?”
“Because a car registered to our company was seen outside their building at the time the robbery took place. I know our staff don’t do things without telling you first. Though why they bother I can’t guess, considering you let them do whatever the bloody hell they want!”
The last word came as a shout. Mandy’s breath came thick and fast. And Duncan still stood too damn close.
“Hey, I don’t—” Something clicked inside his mind. His eyes widened as understanding dawned.
Mandy practically growled. “Who did it, and what did they do? It was Blake, wasn’t it?”
Blake held up his hands in defence. “Look, I don’t know what he did.”
“That’s so much worse.”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
Mandy tried to steady herself with a deep breath. Failed. “I mean that you allow our staff to go off half-cocked at any opportunity. They always tell you before they’re going to do it, and you turn a blind eye. First it was Paul a few weeks ago, which ended up getting Blake shot. Now it’s Blake himself! And, worst of all, you don’t tell me.” She jabbed a finger into his rock hard chest in time with her final words, punctuating her point.
She glared up at him, feeling like a vengeful Fury.
He knocked her hand away. “I don’t tell you because I know that you’ll get mad!”
“Maybe with good reason. Because I get blindsided when people come into my office accusing my staff of things. I shouldn’t have to cover for you all in the first place, but I can’t keep getting wrong-footed when the people I need to hide information from know more than I do about things.”
“Plausible deniability?” Duncan tried.
“I need to know, or I just end up looking like an idiot.”
Duncan hesitated, clearly searching for words. “Look, we don’t tell you because we know you won’t approve.”
“Does it ever occur to you that I don’t approve because what you do is questionable at best, illegal at worst?”
“We do what we need to in order to get the job done.” He crossed his arms defensively over his chest, his eyes narrowing. “They won’t get caught. They’re too good for that.”
Conscious of Paul next door, Mandy made an effort to lower her voice.
“Mistakes happen, even to the best. So, what happens if they do get caught, huh? What happens if we get shut down for illegal activities? Not only do we lose our livelihoods and all the time and money we’ve sunk into this, but all those people you are determined to help, what happens to them? Those soldiers who are struggling to find work, and you hire without a thought, where will they go? The civilians you’re helping, people like Christine and Sierra, what happens to them? You’re playing a dangerous game, Duncan. Don’t make me out to be the bad guy. I’ve covered for you a few times now, and it can’t continue.”
Duncan’s eyes filled with a mix of emotions. Only one she recognised: shame.
He inhaled deeply. “Look, I see your point. But part of the reason that people come to us is that we can skirt the law, do things the police can’t. I don’t want to turn people away because of a rigid adherence to rules.”
Mandy softened. “Then don’t. But there has to be some accountability here. You can’t just allow our team to do whatever they want and hope they get away with it. The world doesn’t work that way. We need to make them follow the law. I know it’s more difficult, and can slow things down. But if there is an extenuating circumstance, we can discuss it when the time comes. Together. As a team.”
Duncan considered her, an odd expression on his face. He was surprised, thoughtful, and maybe even a little bit impressed.
“That sounds fair,” he said eventually.
Mandy held out her hand. “Partners?”
He took it, his large, calloused hand warm in hers. “Partners.”
Chapter 16
Blake led Sierra into the little lunch spot that she’d recommended. It was small and quiet, with floors, tables, and bench tops all made of untreated wood. White walls gave the place a freshness, and the word ‘Organic’ mentioned here and there implied the food would live up to that feeling.
He’d been expecting an upscale establishment, so was pleasantly surprised that Sierra’s lunch choice was so down to earth.
A woman behind the counter—mid-thirties with dirty blonde hair in a messy bun—looked up as they walked in. She glanced at Blake, and then her eyes slid past him to Sierra. Happy recognition lit her face, and the two women shared a smile.
“I’ve saved your usual table for you,” the woman told Sierra. “I’ll be over in a second to take your order.
“Thanks, Julie.” She started moving over to a table in the back corner. Blake shifted the bag he carried on his shoulder and followed. Julie eyed Blake curiously as they passed. There was no heat from the look, but it was clear that she was wondering who he was and why he was with Sierra. He didn’t enlighten her.
Blake took the chair facing the door, his back to the wall. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to the feeling of people moving around behind him. It made him far too vulnerable.
Sierra slid in opposite him. “My cousin,” she told him. “It’s how I always get the best spot in the house.”
Blake raised his eyebrows. “Your cousin works in a café?”
“Owns one,” she corrected.
“I figured all your family would consider a law degree a minimum qualification.”
Sierra gave him a cheeky grin. “She has one of those, but gave it up to fulfil her dream.” She paused. “Though where you got the idea that the whole extended family are lawyers, I don’t know.”
The back of Blake’s neck heated. “You just seem like the kind of family that has high expectations.”
She slid him a look that bordered on an eye-roll. “Not all of us are wealthy, if that’s what you thought. My father has been the most successful—well, gathered the most money—of his branch of the family by far. But not all of them are obscenely wealthy. His sister, Julia’s mother, is a nurse, and married to a retired fireman.”
Blake swallowed the irritation that welled in him as he realised he’d stereotyped her and her family. He was usually better than that.
Before he could apologise, he caught sight of a familiar face entering the café. Then, he slowly turned his head away, careful not to attract attention, and casually covered the side of his face with his hand as best he could.
“Are you okay?” Sierra asked him. An adorable frown tugged at her brows.
“I’m fine.”
“But?”
He sighed. “But my ex-boyfriend just walked in.”
Sierra’s head snapped back. She blinked. Opened her mouth. Closed it. “You’re gay?” she hissed.
Blake scoffed. “No,” he replied at a whisper. “I’m pan.”
Sierra appeared to take that in. “Hu
h. Sorry I assumed.”
Blake waited while she digested this new information. Most people took a little while to get used to the idea. Blake had learned to hate this moment. Every time he met someone new he had to come out all over again. He never knew what their reactions would be, and had to brace himself for what might happen. He allowed her time to process, restless, wanting the moment over with.
“Pansexual is the one where you are attracted to people regardless of gender, right?”
“Right.” He was pleased she knew that. It boded well. He found that most bigots didn’t tend to educate themselves on the nuance of sexuality.
Sierra turned her head slightly, and assessed Dave waiting for his takeaway over the other side of the counter. He was about Sierra’s height, but with black hair and a stocky build. His parents were from Korea, and two of the loveliest people Blake had ever met. As a kid, he’d dreamed of having parents as supportive as Dave’s were.
Their relationship had been a positive time for Blake.
“He’s cute,” she murmured, as she turned back to Blake.
He let out a relieved breath that she’d said something so normal. “Yeah.”
“What happened between you two, if you don’t mind me asking?”
Blake hesitated. “It didn’t end well. He accused me of having one foot out the door all the time.”
Her eyes were too sharp. “And did you?”
He straightened his shoulders, affronted. “No!”
“But?”
Blake sighed. She was too damn perceptive. “But I do have trouble connecting to people. Sometimes. It’s more that I always like to be doing something. But when you are in a relationship, your partner tends you to want to sit and talk at times. And that makes me antsy.”
She eyed him, and he wasn’t sure what conclusions she was making.
“I think… strangely enough, I think that you being pansexual makes me like you more.”
Blake leaned back. That, he had not been expecting. “I don’t know why it should make a difference.”
She let out a breath, frowning in concentration as she puzzled through her thoughts. “It’s just. I tend to think of attractive, straight, white men as having the easiest path through life. I know you’ve had your hardships—” She glanced down at his prosthetic, “but I guess it makes me believe that you’ve faced more difficulties than the average white man and that means you are more aware of what others might face. Builds character. Makes you a better person.” She paused. “Though, I suppose in its own way, that’s a stereotype, too.”
He considered her, impressed by her self-analysis. Her eyes were a little unfocused, her lips parted. It was clear that her thoughts had turned inward.
Blake realised that he, too, had stereotyped her. He had thought her wealth automatically equated to her being spoiled, and had not thought highly of her character because of it. But it was clear to him now that she was hard working, and cared about people. The sacrifices she made for the women in her company were admirable.
“Hey, it’s all good.” Self-analysis not being his thing, Blake changed the subject as quickly as he could. “So, we need to talk about your stalker.”
She straightened, her eyes focusing on him, intent. “Do you have any more information about him?”
“Maybe.” Blake leaned down and extracted some printouts he’d made at her office that morning. He slid them across the table towards her.
Sierra picked up the top one. “Who’s this?”
“That’s the man that delivered your roses.”
She dropped the pages, scattering them across the table. Her intake of breath was sharp and quick.
“That’s him?” she whispered. Her eyes were large as she glanced up at him. Then, her gaze was drawn back down to the photograph. Her hands clutched together, twisting restlessly. It was like she couldn’t bear to even touch the photograph.
“I don’t know. I was hoping you recognised him. He could just be a delivery person.”
She peered closer, still not touching the printout. It was a bad image, he knew, but it was the best angle he’d been able to find on the guy. He wore a baseball cap, hiding his face from the camera. There was no way to tell whether that was intentional.
What he could tell was that the guy was a little over average height and had dark hair. It did manage to narrow it down a little, but was still a depressingly large number.
She sighed, shook her head. “I don’t think I’ve seen him before. Does that mean it’s a dead end?”
He shrugged. “Not necessarily. I have the footage from your building for the last month, so we can check if he was hanging around at all before this.”
Sierra nodded.
“We might be able to narrow it down further, though.” He gathered up the papers from in front of Sierra and tucked them away so she wouldn’t have to look at them. She watched him with her back straight, attentive and waiting.
“First question, how does he know where you live?”
“I… I don’t know. I suppose he followed me there.”
Blake shook his head. “I could see him following you to the apartment building, but it would be pretty risky to get into the elevator with you, get out on your floor, and watch you go into your apartment. I think you might have noticed that. And yet whoever delivered those roses went straight to your floor, no hesitation. Either he had the apartment number memorised, or he’d been there before.”
She sucked in a breath. “Been there before as in… As in he’d been inside?”
Blake gentled his voice and placed his hand on the table close to hers, brushing his pinkie against the tips of her fingers to show her he was there to support her if she needed it, without any pressure.
She wouldn’t like what was coming next. “Sierra, you have to consider that this guy might be someone you know.”
She shook her head in denial and sat back away from him. “No, that’s ridiculous. I might know some jerks, but none of them would do this. It’s too subtle. Not their style.”
“You might be surprised.” He clenched his jaw, digging in. It was important that she recognise this.
“Who would do such a thing?” Her voice was faint.
“Have you been on any bad dates, lately? Turned a guy down? Anyone acting a little too familiar with you?”
“No.” She hesitated. “I mean, I went on some dates lately, but they weren’t bad. I’ve really been too busy to meet people, or date much.”
Blake was surprised by the little spurt of unwelcome jealousy he felt at the mention that she’d been on some recent dates. It was ridiculous. She wasn’t his, and even so, they would have happened before they’d even met. He rolled his eyes at himself, frustrated by his caveman genes. His father would be proud.
“Think back to a year ago. Was there any—” she interrupted him with an immediate shake of the head.
“Ever since I first started noticing it—the stalking—I’ve tried to think of the moment, you know? What was the moment that changed everything? Was it that time I went into a different coffee shop than my usual one morning because of renovations? Was that where he saw me? It could have been that time I went running in the park on West Street. Or when my car was getting detailed and I took the subway. I’ve been trying to think of when I broke my routine, but I know it could have happened on a perfectly normal day. And I can’t think of a single moment that stands out.”
Tension had crept her shoulders up towards her ears. She gripped the edge of the table, her fingers digging into the wood.
“Hey, it’s all right. We’ll catch him, and stop him. You don’t have to worry.” This time he did take her hand, gently loosening in from its clutch on the table. He stroked his thumb across the back of her hand. Her whole body sighed and released. Her other hand dropped into her lap.
“Thanks.” Her smile was rueful.
His heart thumped almost painfully in his chest. “You’re welcome,” he managed.
Chapter 17
Sierra waited just inside the door as Blake swept her apartment to make sure it was safe. She was deeply grateful for his presence, particularly after their lunch, where he revealed that the most likely culprit for her stalker was someone she knew and knew well.
Just the thought of it made her palms sweaty. Her mind was a constant cycle, flicking through all the people she knew and wondering which one could be targeting her. As her thoughts snowballed in a thousand directions at once, her chest squeezed like it was trapped in a slow, inexorable vice.
Tight. Unbearable.
“I want to go for a run,” she blurted out.
“Hmmm?” Blake poked his head around the corner and raised his brows in inquiry.
“I haven’t been able to run with fresh air on my face for a year. It just hasn’t felt safe. But I’d like to now. If… do you run?”
He scoffed. “I’m a SEAL. Of course I run.”
“So can we go?”
She thought she saw a flicker of something pass over his face. Hesitation, maybe. Or worry. But then he gave her a slow smile.
“Just try to keep up.”
Ten minutes later, they were outside the front of Sierra’s apartment building. The night air was cool and crisp. Dull orange streetlights lit the upper stories of buildings, barely strong enough to filter the weak light to the empty street.
Sierra breathed deep, revelling in the smell of everyday life that still lingered on the footpath. Even the aroma of stale cigarette butts couldn’t wipe the smile from her face. It had been too long since she’d let herself linger outdoors, undistracted by the possibility of being watched, or even attacked. But now she had Blake.
It galled her a little that she had to place her life and confidence in another person’s hands, particularly a man’s. But she comforted herself with the fact that that was what she paid him for.
Both of them wore running gear. Blake had left her alone to change for a few minutes after finishing his check of the apartment while he went to grab his gear from his car. He looked good in his loose shorts and t-shirt. The outfit revealed his prosthetic arm, and Sierra realised she hadn’t seen the whole thing before. The hand had been designed to mimic the colour of his skin, but the arm itself looked high-tech. Black and silver, it replaced his forearm, finishing just before his elbow.
Guarding Sierra: (Soldiering On #2) Page 8
