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We go up to the top floor. I bounce on my heels in the elevator, knowing I have to move my nervous energy around my body or pay for it later with stomach cramps or a tension headache.
We finally get to the hotel room. The unfamiliar bodyguard stationed there sees us and raps smartly on the door.
Alistair answers. I look at him with what must be terrified eyes, and he winces. He grabs me, pulling me inside with a grateful salute at Henderson.
I feel anxiety rushing through my body, turning my blood cold. Before I can say anything, Alistair wraps me in a huge bear hug and holds me for a long time.
“Ivy,” he murmurs into my hair. “Ivy.”
I stand there, a little shell-shocked, not sure what to do. He’s acting as if he’s the scared one.
“Tell me what’s going on,” I say once he loosens his grip on me.
“Yes,” he replies, running his hand through his hair. “Let’s sit. Drink?”
I look at my watch. It’s not even noon. “No, thanks.” I need to keep a clear head.
He pours himself a whisky on the rocks. I don’t like seeing him agitated. He always seems completely composed, which is one of the things I love about him. His confidence and composure make me feel safe. I don’t like this at all. There are no words exchanged; he doesn’t seem to know where to start, so I take the lead.
“Why are we meeting here instead of The Raven?”
“This place is … inconspicuous,” he says, calmer now.
I swallow and shift in my seat. “That doesn’t answer my question.”
He sits next to me on the sofa with his tumbler of amber liquor, downs it, and puts the glass down. “It has come to my attention that a certain friend of yours is becoming … a concern.”
Oh, shit.
I mean, I saw this coming. I knew when I saw the text, but now it’s real.
“It’s her job,” I counter. “She’s a journalist. She’s just trying to look out for me.”
A look of confusion clouds his eyes for a second. He blinks it away. “I’m not talking about your friend at the paper.”
Then, who? Colin? He’s the lead investigator, after all.
Alistair has a photo ready to show me on his phone. It’s a poor image, a screenshot taken from a closed-circuit camera, but I recognize the man immediately. He’s wearing a gun holster, and he is in my flat.
Chapter 32
Razor Blades and Fire
“Your life is in danger,” Alistair says. “To date, my security team has blocked three separate attempts.”
“Attempts at what?” I ask.
“That’s what I was hoping you could tell me.”
I stare back blankly.
He takes my hand. “You need to tell us absolutely everything you know about this man and why he’s trying to find you.”
My past trauma slowly wells up again and I try to push it away. I don’t want this. But I have no choice if I want Alistair to protect me.
“He was in my flat?” I ask, my voice timid.
Alistair nods.
