Dangerous Games (Aegis Group, #3) (6 page)

“I can’t quite figure you out.” Miranda tilted her head to the side.

“What’s there to figure out?”

“Are you the kind of guy who’s going to hurt her or not?”

“I wouldn’t hurt Andrea.” The words were out of his mouth before he could temper his reply.

“Good, because I’d hate to sic Crystal on your ass. Andrea deserves someone who’ll be good to her.” Miranda smiled and sipped her drink.

Did she think that was him? There was quite a gap between their ages, not to mention he wasn’t exactly playing with a full deck. Between his disability, the screws he’d had knocked loose and his job, he doubted he was
good
for anyone.

Besides, Zain had the sneaking suspicion that Miranda was more vicious than she let on.

“Speaking of Crystal, what about the doxxing?” he asked as a way to change the topic. “Andrea told me about it.”

Miranda glanced over her shoulder, lip pinched between her teeth. A shadow of fear passed over the Latina’s face, so fast he might have missed it.

“Come here.” She let go of his arm and nodded toward the windows where the crowd was thinnest.

Zain gave Andrea one more backward glance. She’d moved again, to a small seating area where she and an Asian man were listening intently to something a third was saying.

Safety in numbers, wasn’t that what she’d said?

Andrea will be fine.

Or so he had to tell himself.

Zain followed in Miranda’s wake until he could lean up against the cool glass separating him from a forty-two story sky dive to the pavement.

“Andrea said you do security work.” Miranda stared at him with none of the surface level cheer she’d dished out all evening. Her gaze was shrewd, calculating.

“I do.”

“I’m worried.”

“I would be, too.”

“I thought downplaying this mess to the girls was the best thing to do, but I’m not so sure anymore.” Miranda crossed her arms across her chest and faced the windows. The only person who could see the crack in her calm was him.

“Back up, start at the beginning.” He cast a quick peak over his shoulder but could only see the back of Andrea’s head.

“It started at the unveiling eight months ago. We did a short pre-order, thought it would give the press less time to build up an anti-buzz. I got the first letter before the game was announced.” Miranda twisted her delicate gold necklace between her fingers.

“Letter? What did it say?” A knot of dread tightened in the pit of his stomach. He couldn’t quite connect the dots, but he knew this was bad without Miranda having to tell him.

“It was crap addressed to Andrea and Crystal, but I got to it first. They never saw it.”

“What’s significant about the letter?” He tilted his head closer. The general buzz of conversation spiked, making it harder to hear her.

Miranda took a deep breath and glanced sideways at him. “Because no one outside of Grunge or the Dark Matter executives knew about it.”

“And that makes you think—”

“Whoever is behind this smear campaign works for us.”

Shit.

“Can you make me a list?” he asked.

“Sure. Outside my employees...it’s not a long list.”

“Smaller suspect pool.”

“Yeah but it’s someone who knows us. Who knows Crystal and Andrea. What kind of a person does that?”

“Someone you probably don’t know as well as you thought you did.”

If it was this serious, then Andrea needed a professional at her back. And not him. He could do the heavy lifting from behind the scenes, but one of the other guys would probably do better than him in the field.

“Guys.” Piper shouldered Miranda aside, her eyes open wide, posture stiff. Tamara and Rashae were right behind the blonde, all three with similar, shell-shocked expressions on their faces.

“What? What’s wrong?” Miranda’s face paled.

“We have a problem.” Piper held up a three-by-four, paper flier.

With a photocopied picture of Andrea in nothing but her panties, one arm across her chest, caught in what appeared to be a candid moment.

“Where’d you get this?” Zain snatched the flier from the woman’s fingers and crumpled it up.

“They’re everywhere.” Tamara handed a stack of them over.

“Oh my God. That has to be from...” Miranda covered her mouth. “Okay—Zain, get Andrea out of here. Hopefully she—”

“What?” Andrea’s shriek sliced through the din of noise.

“Find these fliers. Take them from people. Now,” Miranda snapped.

Zain was already moving toward Andrea. She stood in the middle of the seating area, a flier in each hand. People stared, some with horrified expressions, others already beginning to snicker behind their hands.

Whoever was responsible—he wanted to do worse than punch their lights out. Later. The most important thing right now was protecting Andrea by getting her out of there.

He shouldered through the crowd drawn by the spectacle of it all, and into the seating area. Andrea had a handful of the fliers now clutched to her chest. Her eyes were wide, face flushed and she was looking around wildly—for more? Because she was the center of attention? Didn’t matter.

“Andrea, come with me.” He slid his hand around her arm and pulled her to him. “Hey, look at me.”

She tipped her chin up, the lost, scared and shattered expression breaking him a bit. Her eyes weren’t quite focusing and she smelled of alcohol. With the way she’d been drinking, it only made sense that she’d have a good buzz going. Whoever had dropped the fliers did so intentionally. Now. When she was near drunk and likely to make a spectacle of herself.

“Come with me, okay?” he said.

Andrea nodded.

Zain wrapped his arm around her, holding her close, and pushed through the crowd without a care for manners or who he shoved aside. Andrea held up a hand, shielding her face. He could already feel the tremors shaking her.

“Just keep your head down, stick close to me,” he said. “Miranda’s taking care of it.”

They finally reached the hall and passed through the gauntlet of people loitering outside. Andrea wiped at her face, tears clinging to her lashes.

God, he hated people sometimes.

She sped up, breaking away from him, heading for the elevator.

“Andrea, wait up.” He jogged after her, keeping pace with her. “Miranda’s taking care of the fliers.”

Andrea whirled, her back against the wall.

“Someone brought these up.” She turned a flier he hadn’t yet seen toward him. Someone had edited the image so she had a Grudge helmet on her and in this shot, only one breast was covered.

Stalking and passive threats, these were the worst because without a lot of time spent finding out who was behind it, the actions continued to cause harm.

“I know. Like I said, Miranda’s collecting them.”

“No, someone brought this up—from the convention floor. They said there were more of them.” She turned and shoved the handful of fliers into a silver garbage can.

“We can alert the convention staff—”

“I’m going to go get them.” The elevator at her back dinged and the doors slid open to an empty lift. She stepped in, arms crossed, not looking at him. “You don’t have to come.”

“If you think I’m leaving you on your own, you’re crazy.” Zain jabbed the ground floor button and turned to face her. “It’s okay to be angry.”

“Angry?” Her glare was sharp. Cutting. “I’m furious. How could—? Where did they get those pictures?”

He wanted to ask Miranda more questions. She’d been about to say more, but had stopped herself. What was Andrea’s boss hiding?

“Do you ever change in your office?” He forced himself to blank out the second flier, the one with the exposed breast.

“Yeah. All the time.”

If Miranda had already figured out that the leak was from the company, it also stood to reason there would be other liability issues. Ways to get at Andrea.

“Do you have a webcam or something?”

“You think someone hacked my laptop? My work set-up doesn’t have a webcam, but I always have at least one of my laptops with me.” She rubbed her temples. “If they hacked my laptop what about my bank accounts? What else? Why? Why would someone do this?”

He reached for her, even though it might be the last thing she wanted. He pulled her to his chest, squeezing her, wishing he could undo the wrong. The violation of not just her privacy, but her body, was criminal on so many levels. Someone was going to pay for this, with blood, if he had his way.

Andrea snatched a fat stack of fliers off one of the tables outside of the convention hall. She should be angry, but all she was right now was—numb. Part of it was the alcohol. She was one step from drunk, which was better than the flat-out-drunk she’d been earlier.

Zain made a circuit of the rest of the lobby in a quarter of the time it took her to pick up the stray fliers.

She’d shown him the flier with her nipple hanging out. Someone had even drawn little rays around it. Like some sort of sun. And she’d shown him. Why?

God, she could never go to another convention so long as she lived.

If it was here—then it was probably already on the Internet. Maybe in color and HD quality. And what went on the web stayed on the web. There’d be no pulling it down. The entire world would have her nips on permanent recall, thanks to search engine optimization.

She couldn’t ignore the Pendulum of Doom swinging over her neck. What would this do to the rest of her career? Andrea had seen what happened to other women who were hated on a wide-scale level and she didn’t have any of their guts when it came to standing up for herself. What had Piper said about it? The Sound Doctor had survived a nasty scandal after breaking up with an ex who proceeded to post all sorts of horrible things about her, including home videos of intimate moments. Maybe photographs weren’t all that bad in comparison.

“Andrea, come here.”

She gave the table one last once-over.

No more fliers. At least it was easy to pick them out from the myriad of other promo available to attendees.

She strode across the lobby to where Zain had paused at the end of another table. His hands were empty and he was staring at a spot on the ground.

“What?” she asked.

“Do you have a dollar?”

Andrea blinked at Zain.

“Do you have a dollar?” he asked again, slower.

“Not on me. Why?”

“A penny? Anything?”

Andrea shoved her hands into the pockets of her borrowed pants.

“No.”

“Pick that up.” He pointed at a shiny quarter someone had dropped on the ground.

Was this some weird game of Simon Says? Andrea gripped the edge of the table and held her breath. She bent slowly, her head spinning at the change in altitude and picked up the quarter in question.

Now what?

“Give it to me.” Zain held out his hand.

“What if I want a snack? Dinner should have happened hours ago.”

“I’ll buy you dinner, just give me the quarter.” He wiggled his fingers at her.

“Why?”

“Because you’re going to hire me.”

“For a quarter?”

“Yes.”

“Zain, that’s silly.”

“It’s my current going rate.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Give me the Goddamned quarter.”

She huffed and handed the money over. It wasn’t even hers to begin with, but he didn’t seem to care. Zain shoved it in his pocket without a second glance.

“What does a quarter buy me?” She leaned against the table and watched him cradle his phone between his two hands.

“What does it need to buy you?” he said absently, his thoughts clearly elsewhere.

“Zain?”

“Hm?”

She reached out and grasped his left wrist. The plastic was warmer than before, but it was still him.

“Will you stop and look at me for a minute?” She wasn’t ready to come to terms with what had happened to her, but in short order, she would have to face it.

“Sorry. I was sending the contract over. What is it?” He shoved his phone into his pocket and turned his hand around. His fingers closed around her palm.

“How drunk am I? On a scale from one to ten?” And how much more upset would she be when she was sober?

“I’m guessing...” His eyes skated over her face before dipping lower in a too-fast once over. “Somewhere around a four or a five? You don’t seem like someone who drinks often.”

“I’m not.”

“Then a five.”

“Okay, then.” She turned toward the locked exhibition hall doors. “What if there are more in there?”

“I’ve already called the head of convention security and left a message for the hall director about it. Security will do a sweep first thing in the morning. I’m hoping the director can touch base with the booths and do a quick search for anything out of place, before the hall opens tomorrow.”

Andrea nodded. Even her Google-fu wouldn’t have gotten her that far so fast. He was making her quarter stretch awfully far.

“Hey.” He tugged her around to face him. “You need some food in you. Let’s order a pizza, okay? I’m going to text Miranda, let her know you’re okay.”

She nodded, more than happy to let someone else make the decisions for her right now.

Zain kept his good hand on Andrea’s lower back and jabbed the button for his floor with the other, glad to leave the lower levels behind. At this hour, the convention center had the eerie quality of the Mines of Moria. Shadows clung to the edges of the rooms. Too bad the trolls after Andrea weren’t the same kind as those from
Lord of the Rings
.

Andrea propped herself up in the corner of the lift, facing him. Dark crescents made her eyes look larger and sad. He had this completely irrational urge to...hug her. Hold her. Was this why so many of the Aegis guys fell into bed with their clients? She crossed her arms over her chest, blocking him out.

Yeah, one of the other guys needed to be her protective detail. Not him.

“Why are you doing this? Why are you being so nice to me?” Even her words were weary.

He lifted his shoulders.

“That’s not an answer. I can’t really hire you for a quarter, so what’s the deal?”

“Why does there have to be a deal?”

“No one does anything for free. Everyone wants something, Zain. What do you want?”