Waiting for Him

by Stormy Glenn

  Once I was ready to leave, I glanced over to the bed. Clarke was still sleeping. He hadn't even moved when I had climbed out of bed. I walked around to his side and leaned down to press a kiss to his temple.

  "I love you," I whispered in a voice so low, I barely heard it.

  But that was the way it should be. I was admitting my feelings for the man out loud for the very first time, feelings I didn't want to acknowledge and he certainly didn't want to hear about.

  I brushed a lock of dark hair back from his forehead then forced myself to turn and walk away. Leaving was the coward's way out, and I knew that. This certainly wasn't my finest hour. It was just better this way.

  I wasn't waiting for him anymore.

  Chapter Eleven

  Clarke

  I knew something was wrong even before I opened my eyes. There was no warm body pressed up against mine, no soft snore singing in my ear. There wasn't even anyone trying to steal the covers from me.

  There was no Lyn in my arms.

  I opened my eyes knowing the room would be empty. I knew I hadn't been asleep very long. A couple of hours at the most.

  I had hope that Lyn had gone downstairs for something to eat, but I doubted it. I'd seen the apprehension in his eyes earlier, but I had ignored it.

  That had been stupid.

  I rolled out of bed and made my way into the bathroom. After taking a leak and cleaning up a bit, I walked back into the bedroom and pulled my clothes back on. I made sure I had my wallet, keys, and gun before striding out of the room and down the hallway to the stairs.

  Brant stepped out of the security office as I came down the stairs.

  I wondered if the man ever slept.

  "I'm looking for Lyn."

  I didn't want to go hunting for him.

  "Mr. Lyn has returned to his home, sir."

  I growled.

  I clenched my fists.

  My nostrils flared.

  "And just where is that?" I bit out in careful, precise words.

  "I am not at liberty to say, sir."

  "Tell me where he is, Brant, or so help me…" I didn't think I needed to finish that statement.

  Brant merely arched one dark eyebrow.

  Arrogant ass.

  I wanted to hit the man, but I needed information first.

  "Lyn is in danger."

  "I assigned two of my guards to accompany him," Brant replied. "If there is a problem, they will inform me."

  "That isn't good enough."

  "I'm afraid it must be, sir. Mr. Lyn specifically requested that his new address not be given out."

  I sucked in a breath. "To me?"

  I rubbed a hand over my sternum. Why did that hurt so much?

  "To anyone, sir. Not you specifically."

  That was a little better, but not much.

  I rubbed my hand over my face before placing both hands on my hips. "Look, Brant, Lyn is in danger. I know you sent a couple of guards with him, but I'm not sure that will be enough. It looks like some dirty cops might be after him. I need to make sure he's safe."

  "I understand the situation, sir, but I cannot go against Mr. Lyn's wishes."

  Yep, I was going to kill the bastard.

  The front door opened just as I started to reach for Brant. I must have lost my touch. The man didn't even give me a second glance before walking over to pull the door open the rest of the way.

  "My apologies for not being there to receive you, sir."

  "It is the middle of the night, Brant," Sal said as he led Lany into the house with an arm around his slimmer shoulders. "You have to sleep sometime."

  I wasn't convinced of that.

  "Sal, tell me where Lyn lives."

  Sal paused, glancing from me to Brant then back again. "What's going on?"

  "Lyn is in trouble, and Brant won't tell me where he lives."

  "Mr. Lyn requested that his address not be given out," Brant said. "I am merely following his wishes. I did send two of my men with him when he went home."

  Sal gave a little shrug as he turned back to me. "Sounds to me like Brant has it handled."

  I was going to punch someone.

  Swear to god!

  I stomped my foot. I knew I looked like a two-year-old throwing a temper tantrum, but people weren't listening to me. "Someone better tell me where the fuck Lyn lives, and they better tell me now!"

  Sal's eyebrows lifted. "Watch yourself, Sergeant."

  Fuck!

  "Go wait in my office," Sal directed. "I need to put Lany to bed."

  I huffed as I spun and marched down the hallway to the room Sal used as his office. It used to be Vinnie's man cave or some such shit like that. It was where he relaxed. I didn't think Sal did all that much relaxing in the room, but as offices went, it was a nice one.

  I walked over to the cabinet where Sal kept the liquor, not remembering until I stood in front of it that he'd installed a lock a couple of years back. They had a crap ton of kids in the house. It was smart to lock up the liquor.

  Unfortunately, that meant I couldn't get a drink unless Sal was in the room. He's the one with the key.

  I walked over to stand at the large windows that overlooked the river. The sun was finally starting to come up. It was just cresting the skyscrapers off in the distance. Normally, I would have enjoyed the view and the dawning of the new day. At the moment, it only reminded me that Lyn was out there somewhere all on his own.

  I clenched my hands, digging my nails into my palms. I couldn't stand the idea that he was out there unprotected, and I didn't care what anyone said. Lyn was not trained enough to protect himself. Academy training wasn't shit out here in the real world.

  A million things could happen, and they'd apparently all happened to Lyn in one single night. I still didn't understand how he got himself into this mess other than his close relationship to Lany.

  Just thinking about the shit that man must put Sal through made me shiver. If he didn't make my commander so damn happy, I would have arrested him and sent him to prison for being a weapon of mass destruction years ago.

  "What the hell is all this about, Clarke?" Sal snapped as he strode into the room. "What's with the attitude?"

  "Lyn needs protection."

  "He has protection. Brant send two of his guys with Lyn."

  I spun to glare at Sal. "It's not enough."

  The whole freaking United States Army wouldn't be enough.

  "Lyn tried to call you earlier."

  "I know. I saw that he called, but I was in the emergency room with Lany. Skip is on vacation, so I had to spend an hour explaining to some dickweed that I am not beating my husband. He's just accident prone."

  I winced in sympathy.

  Sal walked to the cabinet and unlocked it with a key he pulled from his pocket. He poured us both a drink then relocked it and slid the key back. "Tell me what's going on."

  "Earlier tonight, Lyn woke up in an alley. He was beat up, had a briefcase that wasn't his attached to his wrist, and a dead body at his feet. And then someone started chasing him. From what we've been able to figure out, it might be some dirty cops. We're not positive."

  "Who is we?"

  "Vinnie, Lyn, and me." I'd mention Jude later. "When Lyn couldn't get a hold of you, he called Lany, then Wu, then Brodsky, and finally, Vinnie. I answered Vinnie's phone since he was on the other line with Eddie."

  "Porca troia."

  Yeah, pretty much.

  "Vinnie and I were able to go rescue Lyn, but I had a confrontation with three detectives out of the Thirty-Fourth Street precinct. They tried to say they were searching for a robbery suspect, but I knew they were lying. I'm pretty sure they knew I knew, too. At least one of them did."

  I tossed back the contents of my glass then set it on Sal's desk. "That's why I need to know where Lyn is, Sal. He's in danger. He needs someone backing him, someone better trained than two of Brant's goons."

  Sal snorted. "If you don't think Brant trains his guys, you're smoking somethi
ng."

  Well, that much was probably true. Oliver Brant used to be an Israeli spy, a Mossad agent. I had no idea how the man had wound up being the head of security for Sal's estate other than he used to be friends with Vinnie.

  "Lyn still needs protection."

  What part of this wasn't Sal getting?

  "If those detectives find him…" I'd seen what they'd done to him once. I didn't even want to think about what they'd do if they got a second chance.

  Lyn might not survive it.

  "Please, Sal."

  Sal sighed. "Tell me why you really want to know."

  I squinted at the man. I thought I just had. "Sal."

  "Lyn will be fine," Sal said as he walked around to sit down behind his desk. "I'll have Brant check in with his guys at regular intervals. If there's a problem, I'm sure they will call.

  "No!" I slammed my hands down on the desk. "Damn it, Sal. I need to know where Lyn is."

  Sal stood and placed his hands on the desk right by mine and leaned close. "Why?" he asked. "And don't give me some bullshit story about wanting to protect him. Lyn can take care of himself."

  He was going to make me say it, damn it.

  "Because he's mine!" I snapped. "He's always been mine, and that gives me the right to protect him however I see fit."

  "Does he know that?"

  "He will."

  "If I give you his address and you do this, you can't take it back, Clarke. You can't play with him like that. We already lost the best damn tech we've ever had because you couldn't get your head out of your ass. If you fuck this up, we could lose Lyn all together. Are you prepared for that?"

  I swallowed tightly. "We're not going to lose Lyn."

  Not if I had anything to say about it.

  "I'll bring him back."

  "You'd better bring him back with a smile on his face," Sal said as he reached for a pad of paper and began writing, "or your life won't be worth much."

  I smirked at the threat, not because I didn't think Sal meant it, but because I did. I was glad I wasn't the only one looking out for Lyn.

  "What was with the briefcase?" Sal asked as he ripped off the paper and handed it to me. "Did he ever get it off?"

  "Yeah, Jude got it off for him."

  Sal frowned. "Jude?"

  "You'll find out soon enough." I chuckled. "He's upstairs in the guest bedroom next to the boys." I'd love to be a fly on the wall when those two met, but I needed to get to Lyn more. "Keep your phone close. I don't know what I'm headed into."

  Sal raised an eyebrow. "You think Lyn is going to shoot you?"

  "No, I think someone is going to shoot Lyn."

  Or at least try to. They wouldn't succeed if I had anything to say about it.

  "Keep me informed."

  "I will." I started for the door, but paused and glanced over my shoulder before leaving the room. "How's Lany?"

  "Three stitches in his forehead from where he hit the doorframe when he fell."

  "Concussion?"

  "No, thank god. I can just imagine how that would have gone over with that ass hat at the hospital. Self-righteous prick."

  I chuckled and continued out of the room and back down the hallway. The address Sal had given me was in the Abernathy neighborhood, just as Lyn had told me, but it was a big neighborhood, crossing over several blocks. Without an actual address, I would have been hunting for him for days.

  I would have done it.

  Brant stepped out of the security office and walked over to open the front door. For just a moment, hope flared to life in my chest, hope that Lyn had come back. It died a quick death when I saw David Wu walk through the door pulling a suitcase behind him.

  "Hey, man, any word on Lyn?" Wu asked.

  "Vinnie and I picked him up last night and brought him here, but he left this morning before I woke up. I'm headed over to his house right now."

  "Cool." Wu set his suitcase against the wall. "I'll come with."

  "You armed?"

  Wu rolled his eyes before lifting his shirt and showing me the holster on his hip. "I have a backup in my boot if you want to see that, too."

  "I might."

  Just that quickly, the amusement fell off Wu's face. "What don't I know?"

  "I assume Lyn told you of the mess he'd got caught up in when he called?"

  "He gave me the basics, but why don't you go over them again?"

  "I will, in the car." I headed outside then stopped and hung my head before I reached the first step. "I left my car at Vinnie's."

  Chapter Twelve

  Lyn

  I absently stirred my tea as I gazed out the window, not really seeing anything. I was rethinking my choice to leave Clarke sleeping in bed. I knew things would have eventually come to an end.

  They never really started.

  But I would have been able to enjoy being in his arms just a little longer. It would have given me something to pull out and dream about when things grew tough over the years. And I had no illusions. Things would get tough.

  I was planning on a life that would take a lot of work and a hundred and twenty percent of my dedication. Strangely enough, I was okay with that. I was even looking forward to it. I just had to figure out if I still had a bull's eye on my ass.

  I sighed as I turned away from the window. I picked up my cup and carried it into the kitchen, rinsed it out, then set it in the dish drainer. I didn't have the motivation to load the dishwasher right now.

  I didn't have the motivation to do much. I was heartsick right down to my soul. I felt gutted. Not even rubbing my stomach made a difference. I brushed a tear from my eye before it could fully form.

  I was a freaking mess. My stomach was a knot. My head ached. And my chest felt as if my heart was going to shatter into a million pieces.

  It shouldn't hurt this bad.

  I'd been devastated when he left before, but I had kind of been expecting it after all those years of him saying we couldn't be together. This time, I was the one to walk away, and maybe that was what made the difference.

  This time, I made the decision that we couldn't be together.

  Oh sure, I knew what Clarke was going to say when he woke up. That was a given. But I hadn't stuck around to hear it. I chuckled ruefully at myself as I realized because I hadn't heard the words come from Clarke, there was a small bead of hope.

  "Oh, my god." I tipped my head back to stare up at the ceiling. "I am so fucking stupid."

  I was a total glutton for punishment. We'd bumped uglies. There had been no declarations of anything beyond that. It had been sex and nothing more. And while it had been fantastic sex, it wasn't something that was going to get a repeat performance.

  And yet, I still held out hope.

  Could I get any more pathetic?

  I think that the whole building the life I wanted thing worked a whole lot better when I didn't let my old dreams intrude. I definitely wouldn't be going to bed with Sergeant Victor Clarke again. That was just asking for more heartache.

  I glanced at the clock on the wall next to the back door. It was just coming up on six o'clock in the morning. I needed to give it another couple of hours before I called Vinnie and asked if he was able to get the briefcase open.

  I could use my computer to do a little research.

  With that thought in mind, I headed to my new office. Over the last few weeks, I'd gotten nearly everything unpacked and put away. There wasn't a room in the house that I didn't love, but my office might be one of my favorites.

  It was a large room. The ten-foot-tall ceilings made it seem even bigger. I adored the white crown molding and matching baseboards. They gave the place a classy feel without being over the top.

  I was giving serious thought to having a fireplace put in on one of the outside walls. I hated being cold, and I hadn't been warm in forever. With winter coming on, it was going to get even colder. A nice roaring fire while I worked would be very nice.

  I settled down at my desk then turned on my custom com
puter and the three monitors I had placed around it. While they were booting up, I sent off a quick text message to my friend in the FBI, giving him a very brief rundown of my night.

  I wasn't expecting him to call.

  "You got beat up?"

  I chuckled. "Hello to you too, Max."

  "Lyn."

  So, no pleasantries then.

  "Yes, I got beat up, and no, I don't know who did it. I woke up in an alley in what is quite possibly the worst neighborhood in town. There was a metal briefcase attached to my wrist and a dead man at my feet. Someone was chasing me, so I didn't have time to check the body over. I just ran."

  "Who was chasing you?" Max asked. "Do you think it was whoever beat you up?"

  "It's looking that way, which is why I need to access your files. It looks like these morons might be cops."

  "Do you know who they are?"

  "I think so."

  "Give me their names."

  I was good with computers. Max was better. If he couldn't find it, it didn't exist. It was one of the reasons he worked for the FBI. Well, that and they gave him a choice. Work for us or go to prison for cyber crimes.

  "Detective Franklin, Detective Johnson, and Detective Bradley, all out of the Thirty-Fourth Street precinct."

  "I'll call you when I have something."

  I hung up then got to work on my own search. I first wanted to find out if anyone had reported a body found in an alley. That poor man had to come from somewhere. I tried to remember what he looked like—minus the bullet holes—and what he had been wearing and went from there.

  I hadn't found much by the time I heard someone knock at the front door. I didn't want to search police files because I didn't want anyone tracing anything back to me. Granted, I knew how to cover my tracks, but I couldn't take the chance someone would get lucky and figure out what I was doing. I didn't know who these guys had working with them.

  I hit a button on my laptop, and the camera above my front door flickered on. I groaned and dropped my head against the desk when I saw who was standing there.

  I so didn't need this.

  Not right now.

  Clarke knocked again.

  I groaned again.