I don’t have time to explain to Rialta what’s going on, and I know she’s going to be pissed at me instead of thanking me later, but at least she’ll be alive to yell at me. I scoop her in my arms, and I’m up the loft stairs in two seconds.
My bedroom has a small walk-in closet that I push inside and rush to the back, where we’ve created a small safe room. I enter the door code quickly, thrust it open, and push us both inside. The metal door slams shut behind us, cloaking the safe room in darkness.
I grab my gun and hold it at my side, as we stand pressed against each other face to face, breath to breath, chest to chest. Our breaths are fast and erratic. I have no idea what the threat is or whether Gage and Hayes are going to survive it. As I listen to her quick breaths, I suddenly realize I’m actually worried about her.
Rialta drives me absolutely crazy. She’s far too carefree, reckless, and cavalier with her own life. But she doesn’t deserve to die.
I keep my phone in my hand, waiting for a signal from Gage that everything is safe again. My gun is still in the other, ready to attack if the apartment is breached.
Rialta doesn’t ask any questions, doesn’t doubt that her life is in danger once again. But suddenly, I hear her breathing slow, and then I feel her hand on my chest.
“What?” I ask.
She doesn’t speak. She just keeps her hand over my heart, and I feel her calming, steadying presence.
I start breathing with her, slowing my tempo to match hers until my heart is calm. I’ve never had someone touch me like that, never had someone calm me.
My heart skips a beat at the thought of this woman. I’ve never wanted to kiss someone or hold someone so much in my life. It has to be our proximity to each other in this cramped safe room that’s doing it.
I’m always the calm, steady one, the one who isn’t flustered. But I couldn’t hide my true self from her in a space like this. She felt the anxiety and fear flowing through me, and she relaxed me.
I don’t know why she did it. And I don’t know how she’s able to be so serene herself when faced with death so frequently for such a young woman.
My phone buzzes in my hand, the light from the phone lighting up our faces as we stare intently into each other’s eyes. I glance down.
“It’s safe. Gage says it was a false alarm.”
Her lips part, and her tongue rubs over her bottom lip. I very much want to taste that lip.
I grind my teeth together, biting my own tongue in the process, and I wince.
“Are you okay?” she asks with full sincerity.
“Yes,” I growl back, mad at myself for not keeping my horny feelings under wraps for this woman.
I open the door, and we spill out without a word, a thank you, anything to each other.
She heads straight to the bathroom. I head downstairs to clean up the food and wine, knowing no one is going to feel like eating after what just happened.
Gage comes in while I’m cleaning up. “Someone is playing games with us.”
“What do you mean?”
He holds out the phone and shows a loop of men entering our apartment building with guns.
“No one entered the building. This is fake. It didn’t really happen.”
I frown. “Why would someone do that?”
“I don’t know. To scare us. To keep us on edge.”
“Be on guard tonight.”
“I always am,” Gage says before leaving.
I throw the last of the dishes into the dishwasher, and then I head upstairs, where Rialta has already climbed into bed.
After removing my shirt and placing my gun on the nightstand, I start removing my jeans.