“It won’t be long, and you’ll be walking down the aisle,” she sing-songs.
“We’ll have to see,” I reply. We do our own thing, taking turns with patients going on and off the floor.
The phone ringing doesn’t even faze me. I’m typing away when I answer, “Lodgeview Outpatient Hospital, this is Giana, how may I help you?”
“I saw you,” a garbled voice says through the phone.
“I’m sorry?”
“I saw him with you, you tramp. What a skank you are out in the open in broad daylight.” The voice might be coming through some kind of voice machine, but I can hear the disdain in her voice. It all clicks into place, and I need to keep her on the phone while somehow getting in touch with Drake.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I play dumb. Doing my best to keep her talking so I can text Drake. I fumble for my phone, unlocking it, pulling up his name, and texting ‘Track my work line call, now please,’ then putting my phone back down.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. The birth mark on his left ass cheek was out for the whole world to see, as if no one could see. I guess they couldn’t unless they’re me.” I’m rocked to my core. Drake’s house is locked up like Fort Knox. It’s impenetrable. Especially with these whacked-out calls he’s been getting. Once he finds out about this one, he’s going to lose his mind and security will be triple.
A text comes through on my phone.
Drake: Keep them talking. Easton is tracing it now. Lots of red tape.
Me: Okay, don’t get in trouble.
“I’m not sure who you’re even talking about. Who did you say it was?” I’m really thankful Rita is out on the floor right now and not being subjected to the bullshit that is being spewed out of this person’s mouth.
“It’s been fun. I’ll be sure to call again.” The line clicks off.
“Shit,” I mumble under my breath. I really hope Easton was able to trace the call this time. All the calls so far have been made from a burner. A few times it was from a random shopping center. By the time the guys would get there, the caller would be long gone.
“Is everything okay?” Rita comes back and sees my head down, looking more defeated than ever because I know this is going to push Drake over the edge.
“Yes, no, maybe.” I lift my head, shrugging my shoulders. “I have a feeling my alpha caveman will be here within the next ten minutes. The phone calls he was getting just escalated times one thousand.”
“Oh dear, if you need any help, I’m here for you.” She rubs my shoulder.
“Thank you. I’m more worried about how Drake handles what happens next.” As if he knew what I was saying, the elevator door opens and he’s making his way towards me.
“Why don’t you take the rest of the day off? It’s slow enough,” Rita suggests.
“Thanks.” I stand up, grab my purse, phone, and go to Drake. This conversation isn’t going to go well. I really don’t want it to happen here.
“You ready, angel?” His voice is in that ‘I’m pissed like a bull in a China shop’ tone.
“Yeah.” His hand lands protectively on my hip and we leave together.
Fifteen
Drake
It took Slade and Bridger to hold me back when that text came through. I was ready to whip out of Nighthawk Security, protocols be damned. I’m getting really tired of people having it out for us or the women we love. This time, it’s hitting too close to home for me. We were lucky once again. Easton happened to be available the minute Giana’s text came and he tapped into the phone line at the tail end of the phone call, and it more than pissed me off.
In fact, the guys are at our house right now going through it with a fine-toothed comb. Sure, the shit she said was about when we were outside, but that still pisses me off. That being said, I’ll be keeping our sexual activities inside. I’ll be damned if someone gets off to Giana and me.
“You okay, angel?” I ask once we’re safely ensconced in my blacked-out Tahoe. It’s fully bulletproof, and right now it’s giving me some sort of peace. I don’t recall the drive over, the trek upstairs, or anything. It wasn’t till my eyes landed on Giana that my heart started beating normally again.
“Yeah, but are you?” Giana asks. Her eyes aren’t the bright color they usually are. In fact, it looks like she’s more tired than ever. Maybe this is too much for her. Not that I’d give her a chance to part ways, but if it came down to her safety, I’d put her in a safehouse until I scoured the ends of Virginia, hell, the earth to find this dirt bag.