One drink. Alone together. Maybe I’ll ease her mind a little and tell her that I’d never divulge her secret. Put her in any danger. Hell, I’ve been commissioned to help make sure she and others like her stay safe, for fuck’s sake. The problem is, she isn’t supposed to know that part. Agent Harper is supposed to be her only visible handler. But there are always more U.S. Marshalls assigned. Plain-clothes civilians who support, placed specifically to check-in and keep the person in WITSEC unaware. With cases like hers, or so I’m told, where the death toll was more like a massacre than just a murder, the check-ins need to be frequent.Just a murder.The thought of it makes me ache for her loss.
Those were the exact words used to describe the chaos that surrounded my pixie when Agent Harper paid me a visit. The day after a dead woman walked into my life, blowing up just about every plan I had set into motion, stirring up emotions in my gut that I had long since resigned would stay buried along with her. That’s the problem, though, she’s not mine. No matter how much I want it, want her, she can’t be.
* * *
“You’re ex-military, top of your class, and I’ve done my homework, Riggs. Now it’s up to you to decide what happens next,” the agent, who I learned was Agent Bea Harper after she flashed her credentials in my face, says. She takes a drag of her clove cigarette. “I can’t have my folks in WITSEC have any connection to their old life. And you made quite a stir back in New York with the constant calls and stop-ins. The agent assigned to her case knew you by first name. Said you even attended her service. So now, this place can’t work unless I make it work. This is me asking if you want to help me make it work?”
She caught me at my truck, right after my morning run. Sweat-soaked and clear-headed, even after the upheaval the night before had caused. Breaking off an engagement, moving out of my home, realizing I was right and she was alive, it didn’t hit me hard. It hit me just right. Knocked me sideways, but I feel relieved. Ready.
“How would I do that? Help you make it work?”
“You work with me. Be my eyes on the ground here. Help me place new people where necessary even if they’re short term. There’s a lot of funding approvals that have to happen and the speed at which it happens doesn’t jive with the immediacy that some of these folks need. I need people I can trust who are going to be silent eyes, and quick to move if I need it. It’s off the books, but I’ll make sure you get compensated.”
“I don’t need the money.”
“What do you need, then?”
I mull the thought around. And it keeps coming back to the woman who has now taken up residence in my mind in just under a day.
“I need to know what happened to her.”
“I can offer you high-level detail, but the rest she’ll have to tell you. It’s confidential and there are some rules I don’t bend. You care about her and that’s… nice, but I need to cover her ass and make sure you’re not a problem. This is the only way to do that and let her stay here. You may not need the money, but you’ll get paid for your time anyway.”
“So if I say no?” I ask, already knowing what she’s going to say. My stomach tight at the reality of this situation.
“Then she’s relocated. Erased from here. I’m not in the business of finding people; my job is to hide them. It might sound harsh, but it’s her life on the line. You have twelve hours to get back to me—”
I cut her off. I don’t need to hear any more. “I’ll do it.”
She quirks her brow at my quick decision. “You obviously will have some kind of a relationship with her. Your sister and her have become close, but that’s where the connection ends for you. This isn’t a green light for you two to rekindle whatever you had started in New York.”
I nod. “Will she and I be doing check-ins?”
Harpers drops the butt of her clove and stamps it out. “No, Riggs. She needs to live her life. As quietly as possible, which for her, is going to be a challenge already. She will not know about your involvement with WITSEC. And you will maintain a professional distance. That, or I relocate her. It’s the only offer I’m willing to serve up. I refuse to let feelings and coincidences put my people in danger. And, Riggs, there’s danger in this.”
“Understood.”
“I’m not going to go into the reasons why if you do this, things with Giselle will remain platonic.” I try not to wince at the very clear line she just drew in the sand. “She already knows this, but you need to be sure as well that she remains out of the spotlight when she attends your family’s events. Leave it up to that kid to make friends with low key celebrities.” She scoffs. “Keep your interaction with her minimal. She’s going to want to do the same. She alerted me of you and of how you met.” Harper levels her attention, making sure I hear her, and then points a finger at me. “So do us all a favor, and keep your distance.”
I’m not a man that likes to be pointed at, but instead of hauling an insult, I swallow the sandpaper that’s coating my throat. The situation I’ve been backed into pisses me off, but I’m reasonable enough to know, if I don’t want G disappearing again, that this is the only way. Not to mention, she’s just restarted her life. How could I say no, knowing she’d have to give it up and start from scratch somewhere far from here? Far from me.
“You have my cooperation. In all of it,” I grit out.
“Good. Thought you might. You flyboys are some of the best, most loyal I’ve worked with. Your superiors had only good things to say about your dedication. Shame what happened.” I don’t respond to that. Quite frankly, my life is none of her business, and I’m annoyed that she has the authority to know about any of it. “Great to have you onboard. I’ll be in touch.” She turns on her heel and walks off. As if she didn’t just throw an anvil on my life. A wet blanket draped over all the possibilities I had let escape into my mind.
* * *
“Are you coming in? Or are you just going to lurk in the stairwell, like a creep?” G says as the door swings open. She slings her bag onto a bench by the door, tossing her keys in a bowl. Shoes discarded too. It’s a fast and careless deposit of belongings. Like she can’t get into her space fast enough. Get comfortable.
I should go. She’s home safe. But my feet move forward, and instead of leaving like I should, I waltz through the front door without pause. I ignore the fact that it’s exactly what Agent Harper demanded Inotdo. Tempt the urge to be more than a memory for her. Keep myself a spectator and not a player in her story. Instead, enough Corona’s at the hot springs, watching her flirt with my brother in that bikini, and I’m here.
I can keep this simple. I’m here for a drink. Defuse some of the worry she may be carrying.That’s it.
When I finally look around, G’s apartment is exactly what I would have expected. Splashes of color and texture, tapestries on walls, oversized pillows around the living room floor, all mismatched, plants on every surface, and some oversized palm-tree-looking ones with monster leaves in the corner. The loft itself is massive, with exposed brick and ceilings that would normally make a space like this feel modern and cold, but she’s warmed it up. She has that way about her. Color. Warmth. It feels good to be near it, near her.
There’s a hammock swing hanging from the rafters in the corner in front of a wall of windows. A front seat to Strutt’s, overlooking the city-like feel of downtown. Next to it is a pile of notebooks. Some splayed open are filled with color. Next to them are at least six mismatched cups stuffed full with colored pencils of all different sizes.
“You can look. I don’t mind you being nosy, Hanky,” she says as she moves toward the kitchen.