29
Istep from the bathroom, my towel wrapped around my hips to find Wren curled up in the middle of our bed. Her hair is damp from her own shower and one of my shirts covers her slim body. She stares towards the wall of windows, looking out at the skyline.
Lights blink on the horizon and right in the distance you can see a cargo ship coming into port.
“What are you thinking?” I ask, dropping the towel to put on a pair of gym shorts before I join her on the bed.
“Rory,” she sniffs.
I sigh and run a hand down her spine, “I am sorry about your friend.”
“She has a sister,” she says, “I guess she’ll never know what happened.”
“Ryker will take care of it.”
“How?”
“He’ll think of something.”
“She’ll just be forgotten, buried like everyone else in this life. It’ll be a wound left open, no closure.”
“No Little bird, she won’t, I’ll make sure of it. She will get the burial she deserves.”
She inhales deeply and turns to face me, her eyes red rimmed from her recent tears. I wish I could take it away.
I reach forward but my phone ringing loudly from the dresser halts my hand. “Go on.” Wren says with a gentle tilt of her lips, staying exactly where she is, so I do, climbing from the bed to pick up the call, keeping my eyes on her.
“Lex.” I answer.
“We have him,” Ryker says on the other end, his voice rushed and breathless, “pinging you the address now.”
My phone buzzes against the side of my head and I pull it away, reading the address, “next city over.” I comment.
“When do you want to hit?”
“Tonight, I’m not giving him a chance to move. Get some men, meet at the penthouse in an hour.”
I hang up.
Wren is climbing from the bed, throwing the shirt from her body as she searches for different clothing.
“You’re not coming,” I growl.
“Like fuck I’m not.”
“Yeah, what’s going to happen if Valentine gets you again, hm? You think he’s just going to kidnap you? He’ll kill you, Wren.”
“Probably the same thing that’ll happen to you, Lex,” she hollers back.
“Don’t fucking push me, this is final. You. Are. Not. Coming.”
“Fuck you, Alexander. You leave without me, and I’ll find my own way there.”
“Wren,” I try, lowering my tone, “I can’t have you with me.”
“You’re not taking this from me,” she pulls on a pair of leggings and a sweater, “I’m coming.”
“And what if something happens to you?”