Sylvie shakes her head.
“I know it’s personal, but it could help us,” Kincaid says. “Was he rough, or violent? Did he ask you if you were interested in group activities? Did he want you to act differently? Younger?”
“What?” she hisses. “No. I never had sex with Will Varon.”
“Sylvie,” I begin, a warning in my tone because I know better. “Lying won’t—”
“I wasn’t lying,” she says, her eyes locked on her clasped hands. “I was trying to make you—I’m not lying. We kissed a few times when we were in high school. He was calm and almost shy. So no, he never asked if he could share me. He never mentioned any kinks. I thought he was a nice guy.”
Guilt has swum in my gut since Angel showed up over two hours ago. I wore my cut proudly in Telluride. I’d find it hard to believe that any traffickers near us wouldn’t know who Cerberus is and what we do, but all it would take is one simple internet search to figure that out. I can’t help but blame myself for what happened to this little girl and Greta’s death after we left town.
My guilt triples when I feel grateful that Varon didn’t do something to Sylvie in retaliation because he thought maybe we were there to research him. It shows that he’s patient and calculating. He isn’t prone to rash decisions, and that makes him even more dangerous.
I’m trembling with rage, knowing I couldn’t not make the issue with Will Varon personal if I tried.
“Can you see her home safely?” Kincaid asks, making it clear that the conversation is over.
“I’m fine,” Sylvie says. “Sober enough to drive.”
“Sober enough isn’t going to cut it,” Kincaid says, squeezing her shoulder as she stands. “Spade will make sure you get home, and he’s going to stay with you.”
I snap my eyes up to my boss, but the irritation that was in them when he ordered me to accompany her to Telluride has transformed into gratefulness. I wouldn’t be able to leave this woman alone anyway. His command gives me exactly what I need.
“I don’t want—”
“Will Varon is unaccounted for,” Kincaid interrupts her. “You can stay here instead.”
“He wouldn’t—”
“You provided him with all your personal information when he started the work on selling your grandfather’s property. It would give me peace of mind if Spade stayed with you.”
The tremble in her body is clear as she nods. I bet she hadn’t even thought about Varon coming after her, but if he’s the type looking for retaliation, the man will somehow link her to everything that has gone down. I don’t know what Angel did to tip him off or if the man is just prone to violent outbursts that leaves women and children in need of medical care, but any man who can hit a child and abduct women is capable of seeking revenge, whether it’s warranted or not.
Her eyes find mine, and I don’t know what she’s searching for, but if she opens her mouth to tell Kincaid that she doesn’t think I can keep her safe, it will cut me off at the knees.
“Are you ready to go?” I ask, cupping her cheek when her bottom lip begins to tremble.
She nods, leaning a little into my hand.
I turn her when she tries to head toward the front door, moving her in the direction of my room.
“I’m not staying here with you,” she says, frozen in front of my bedroom door.
“I wouldn’t even presume to ask,” I tell her as I slide past her and flip the light on.
I pull a duffel bag from my closet and load it with clothes and some of my favorite defense items.
“Do you really need all that stuff?” she asks, the weight of her body pressing against the doorframe.
“Would rather have too much than not enough,” I tell her as I zip the bag and walk closer. “You’d be safer here.”
She shakes her head, and I vow to never press the issue again.
“Ready?”
She nods her head, turning around and heading back toward the front of the clubhouse.
I’m an asshole for hoping she stumbles a little on the way to her car because it will give me a reason to sweep her up into my arms, draw her close to my chest, and bury my nose into her neck.