Stay With Me (32 page)

Been a long time since I’d ridden a bike. I’d fall on my face.

“Good luck,” I said, moving forward.

Chapter Twenty-one

It was different, being on the outside. Not feeling that rush of entering a quiet space not meant for you. Once upon a time, that had been our entertainment, but that was a lifetime ago. That was Abby’s age. What the hell was I doing?

“We’re saving our livelihood,” I whispered, taking my place behind the Dumpster. Of course a Dumpster. Must be fate.

If anyone came, I was supposed to kick it or bang something against it loudly and run the other way. Or pretend I was out running at night and fake an injury to draw attention my way. Whatever hit me at the moment. I looked around and saw a length of pipe. I picked it up and wielded it. That would work.

“Please, God, let this go easy,” I whispered. “And I’m sorry I just prayed for aiding and abetting.”

A few minutes later, Ian’s shape appeared at the door, worked at the lock, and slid inside, cranking my heart rate up to warp speed. I thought I heard a loud noise, and then nothing.

“Come on, Ian,” I muttered. Minutes went by and I thought my throat was going to close up. I didn’t like being on the outside. I wanted to be in there where I knew what was going on. Where was he? He was only supposed to do a scan for cameras, find Duncan’s office, and signal for Missy. There was no signal. Where was—

Finally, about the time my heart was going to explode, a hand gesture poked out the door.

“Jesus,” I breathed. And here came Missy, trotting around the perimeter, rearing to go. “Well, y’all have fun,” I whispered. “Take your time. I’ll go get donuts or something.”

She went in and there was a squawk and a yelp, making me stand straight up. But then the door closed.

It went on. And on. And after fifteen minutes went by, I regretted not going in. Even if I wasn’t participating, I’d at least know what was going on. Standing out there behind the smell of decaying food and animal poop—surely they didn’t dispose of dead animals back there—was about to drive me mad.

No one drove by, walked by, ran by. I was out there staring at a door for nothing. I could go back to the car and wait. Make him worry when he came out. And as much as I kind of liked that scenario, what if someone did come by while I was sitting all snarky in the car?

Or what if someone had been in there? What if that was the yelp I heard? What if they were trapped in there and couldn’t get out, and I wouldn’t know because I was piddling around outside like a loser. What if they didn’t find anything and it was all for nothing?
What if they find something against Duncan?

Ugh, I had to tough it out. But five more minutes and I was going in. Five more minutes and—

The door opened and Ian’s head poked out. Oh, sweet God, I breathed a sigh of relief. I gave a thumbs-up as they slipped out and headed around the perimeter back to the road.

“Oh, my God,” Missy was whispering. “It
was
kinda funny, you have to admit. In an
I hope I don’t die because of a cursing bird
kind of way.”

“What?” I said, looking at each of them. Missy looked high. I understood that. Ian looked like he wanted to hang her from a noose.

“There’s a Blue Macaw parrot in there,” Missy said. “It yells.”

“Bird’s not the only one,” Ian said.

“Hey, it was screaming
fuck
at the top of its lungs when I got there, and that wasn’t from me,” she said.

I snickered and felt a little left out.
Oh, get over it.

“Well?” I said, anxious as we got to the car and got in. “How did it go?”

“I disarmed the cameras, downloaded the files and emails, and reactivated everything on our way out,” Missy said.

My eyebrows raised and I glanced at Ian as he settled into his seat. “What did you do, hold the flashlight?”

He gave me a look. “I dug through all the drawers. He likes his dental floss.”

I snorted and turned back forward. “So anything incriminating?”

“We didn’t look,” he said. “Just copied everything and now I can go look through it all,” he said, holding out his hand. “Missy?”

“Oh,” she said. “Right.” She dug in a pocket and pulled out a flash drive, dropping it into his hand. “There you go.”

“Just one?”

“It has a high-gig memory,” she said. “Holds a lot.”

“Well, thank you,” Ian said. “You were actually very helpful.” He sighed. “Except you have to remember not to talk.”

“I talk when I’m nervous,” she said, reminding me of the conversation I’d had with Duncan.

“And if there are audio microphones anywhere in their security system, they’ll pick you up,” he said.

“Well, I’m pretty sure this is my last B and E,” she said.

“Lord, she’s talking the language now,” he said, rubbing his eyes.

That was the majority of the conversation as we made the drive across town back to my house, my blood buzzing from what we’d just done. Back to my little haven, where bushes grew too tall and men lay in wait to have sex with me. I shook my head free of that memory and flexed my fingers, knowing it was going to be a long night. I was nowhere near sleepy, my mind was too pingy.

Missy pulled up to the curb and let us out, probably sensing she shouldn’t stick around. Part of me wanted her to, it would be safer. And part of me craved something. Closure of some kind. A touch, a look, a non-angry word—something. But it was different now.

Ian straddled his bike but didn’t turn over the engine, just sat there looking at me, making my stomach twist up. Fuck if he wasn’t going to make me walk to him.

Sweet God, he looked good sitting there. I flashed on a memory I did not need to be visiting. One that involved both of us on a similar bike. Then I remembered the way his back always felt when I was pressed up against him with my arms around him and the wind whipped around us.

And I had to stop.

Because he was looking at me the same way.

Neither of us said anything for a few beats, and I realized that’s what it was. That’s what was missing. Sharing the moment. That high-intensity basking in the afterglow thing we used to do when we’d gotten away with something crazy. It had felt almost anticlimactic without that. Before I could think too much on my actions, I put my hand over his on the handlebar grip, feeling the ripple go through me. Ian’s gaze fixed on our hands as a rush of breath came out of him and his thumb came up to caress my finger.

I felt all the energy drain out of me, and I squeezed his hand and let go. The lightning. He was the lightning and the fire, that was for sure. He was the electrical current that pulled everything from me, and I’d always thought that was a good thing. I’d thought that’s what love was.

Before I met someone that filled me up instead.

“Just wanted to make sure you’re safe here,” he said finally, clearing his throat.

“I’m good, Ian,” I said. “You don’t have to worry.”

“Bullshit,” he said, meeting my eyes. “You can trust him all you want, but I know that family. You don’t just walk away.”

“You did.”

“And look where I stand,” he said. “There is no walking away.” Ian turned the key but didn’t start it yet. “Lock your doors.”

“Aye aye,” I said.

His face relaxed and his eyes softened, and he nodded and looked down, a small smile pulling at his lips. “Lock up everything, Sav. Every door, every window, do you hear me?”

“I promise.”

I turned and walked without seeing, walking the sidewalk by memory, turning and jogging up the steps to the porch where we’d given in, to the door where I’d told him he couldn’t stay.

“I’m good,” I yelled, unlocking my door and closing and locking it behind me. The words echoed in my head. It was several seconds before I heard the rumble of his engine coming to life, and Gracie bounded off the couch to greet me.

It was such a lie.

Chapter Twenty-two

Shockingly, I slept like the dead, not even making it off my couch. Gracie took this as a slumber party invite and was sprawled all the way across my legs, on her back, legs spread to the world, head hanging halfway off the couch.

I wasn’t even sure what woke me up, outside of a splitting headache and a crick in my neck. I blinked at the light streaming in the window.

“Jesus, what time is it?” I muttered, flailing around for my phone, which was nowhere to be found. I blinked my gritty eyes and rubbed them with the heels of my hands, making black mascara marks. “Lovely.”

As my vision focused a little better, I could see the clock across the room. Eight forty-five.

“Wow,” I said. “What the hell happened to me?” I pulled at my right leg, which was dead from Gracie’s weight. “Get up, you horse,” I said. She just made a yawning, groaning noise and stretched.

A loud knock on my door made us both jump, and she miraculously left the couch to go see.

“Oh, hallelujah,” I grunted, pulling my one dead leg off with my hands and dragging it behind me as I hopped on my other one. “If not for company, Gracie, I’d be an amputee.”

I started unlocking the door before I remembered I wasn’t supposed to, then sighed. “No one’s gonna murder me before nine in the morning,” I said, looking through the peephole. For half a second I hoped it was Duncan. Even with the dead leg and morning breath and fear of murder, I was missing him.

Missy. Well, so much for that. I opened the door to her recoiling.

“My God, what happened to you?” she said.

“What—” I reached for my face out of reflex and caught a glimpse of my palm. “Oh, mascara, yeah, sorry.”

“Are you okay?” she asked, holding out a carrier of two large Starbucks coffees and a plastic bin of cupcakes. “I brought breakfast. I know it’s Sunday, but—” She narrowed her eyes as she took me in, standing on one foot. “Were you sleeping?”

“Evidently,” I said, wiping my mouth and hoping there were no drool stains. “Oh, man, thank you for the coffee.”

“Y’all tie one on last night after I left?” she said, giving me the eye. “Or something else?”

“No!” I said. “He left right after you did. I just—I don’t know what happened to me.” I motioned her in and felt my hair and groaned as it just got better and better. It was still in the ponytail, only most of it had escaped about a quarter of the way, forming a large hump. “I fell asleep on the couch and I guess I went out hard.”

Missy put the cupcakes on the coffee table as I limped behind her.

“You break your foot, too?” she asked.

“No, Gracie slept on it,” I said, shooing her away as she took hearing her name as an invitation for a cupcake.

Missy sank onto the couch, dangling a bag from her fingertips while I pulled a coffee out, flipped the lid, and took a swallow, sighing with happiness. I looked up at her expression.

“Wow, you so look like the evil cat in every Saturday morning cartoon I ever saw.”

“You know,” she said as she pulled one leg under her. “I can kinda get what you two saw in this back then.”

I laughed. No, she didn’t. But that’s okay.

“Well, it wasn’t exactly like that,” I said. “A lot more small-time and it usually involved sex.”

She frowned. “Now I’m really glad you never hit my house.”

“Exactly.”

“But there was a rush, wasn’t there?” she asked. I couldn’t deny that. I just smiled and she nodded. “I thought so.”

“Please don’t start a new career in larceny,” I said.

“Hey, I wouldn’t be alone,” she said. “Think of all the retirees out there just itching for something to do.”

I sat down on the ottoman. “You want to start a pack of senior cat burglars?”

Missy wiggled her eyebrows. “Just think of the outfits.”

I laughed. “You are too much.” I nodded at the bag in her lap. “Whatcha got?”

“Five flash drive copies,” she said. “Five paper copies, in color, each in envelopes.”

“Already?” I said. “I thought Ian had the flash drive.”

Missy chewed her bottom lip. “I made a copy while we were there,” she said. “So I would have one.”

I cocked my head and grinned. “Well, look at you, going all Bond girl.”

I expected her to laugh, but she just kept pulling at her lip.

“Well, he kept pushing me to hurry and not look at anything, and I don’t know, it got my Spidey sense up,” she said. “So I made a duplicate while he was digging in the drawers.”

“Okay—and?” I asked.

She met my gaze. “Have a cupcake,” she said. “There’s a Bavarian cream one in there, even.”

I narrowed my eyes as my stomach went sour. “Missy, spill.”

She leaned over and grabbed a strawberry one, pulling back the paper and taking a bite. “Most of the stuff was all legit,” she said. “Patient files, budget stuff, bills.”

“But?” I didn’t want to know. I didn’t want to know that Ian was right and Duncan was a fraud and that he was using me to get to my business. That I’d been manipulated and duped.