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"No windows and concrete walls," Reign told him, meaning the prospect room we had all needed to bunk in while Reign vetted us. "Can try to kick your way out, but you'd have two broken legs for your trouble," Reign went on, holding an arm out for the man to move with him, flanked by Cash, then followed by Pagan.
As soon as we were alone, Roan walked across the room, grabbing the bottle of Johnnie with a napkin, then walking it over toward Lo. "Fingerprints won't bring you shit," he told her, shrugging. "But test the liquid."
"You think he poisoned it?" Lo asked, carefully reaching for the napkin as well.
"Never know. He sounds like he's been a lot of places. Poison isn't common in the States, but it's big overseas. If he meant us harm, this would be an easy way to do it without anyone finding out."
"Sounds like you know from experience," Roderick said, coming in from outside, a bit of sawdust in his hair.
"I do," Roan surprised us all by admitting.
"Okay," Lo said when Reign and Cash walked back out after locking Adler in. "I will test this. Janie and Alex will get on tracing any bit of him across all the wires. Pagan, will you let me know what Ward says so we know if we should look that way or not?"
"Will do."
Reign looked around, taking a breath.
"Edison, Roan, Pagan, Virgin, Sugar, and Roderick are on lockdown. You eat, sleep, breathe, and fuck in the compound now. You don't even go out for a fucking beer run. Duke and Renny will come to keep an eye as well. Until we know this is legit, that he's just a weird fuck who wants in, all guards need to be up. Lo, I want some of your guys back to check for any other weak spots. It's been a while. We were obviously slacking. Cash and I are gonna go check and see if the Grassis or Mallicks have heard from or heard of this fuck. Wolf, well, sounds like he's out there cutting down every fucking tree," Reign mused, shaking his head. "We'll have church at ten to see what we have to go on. Don't fucking open that door until then," Reign demanded, moving off toward the door, tapping his brother in the gut as he did so to follow him.
"Maybe he was the storm," Sugar mused, shrugging, when he moved inside. "We kept saying something was coming, maybe it was him."
Hell, maybe it was.
We would have to see.TENLennyI was not going to reach out.
No way in hell.
Not even if my body decided that three orgasms weren't satiating, but instead, created a hunger that no amount of working out or masturbating could ease.
Speaking of working out, the day after our last session, yeah, he hadn't been at the gym. I told myself I wasn't even going to notice such a thing as I drove over that morning, but for the first time since I joined up, I found my focus lacking, my gaze constantly seeking the corners of the room, thinking I would find him there, watching me, or pretending not to be watching me. Something. Anything.
But he wasn't there at all. And, I reminded myself as I got ready for work that night, I really shouldn't have been surprised by that anyway since Edison was not a staple at the gym. He, like Cyrus, and like Malcolm only did occasional classes when there were enough people to fill them. They had outside lives, outside jobs. I had never seen Edison before that morning in the gym when we met. And I was pretty sure, as focused as I was when I was there, that I would have noticed someone like him.
So it wasn't weird that he wasn't there.
His lessons with me were over.
I guess his group class was over as well.
I was being utterly egotistical to think he wasn't there because of me, because we'd had an argument.
Almost as a rule, I didn't have arguments with men.
Quite frankly, I never gave a shit enough to argue with one.
Had I occasionally told one to get the fuck out of my life? Yes. But coolly, calmly, collectedly.
Nothing like we had done the other night.
Maybe it was just all the frustration built up, and then the physical relief. It just made all that stuff that I would normally keep under control, burst out of me like a madwoman.
It was not, was completely not anything to do with the idea that maybe he was right, that maybe there was something more than sex between us. Because, well, that made no sense at all. We barely knew each other, save for the yammering I had done when I was drinking, which if I recalled correctly, was mostly about music and food and movies and travel, nothing deep.
