Charlaine clears her throat and the sound of her typing resumes. “I’m sorry.”
“It happens.”
“Only to people like us, but we’ll find a way. I’ll dig up everything this fucker has out there.”
It’s morning, the dark gray of the early hours starting to brighten and give way to the rising sun. This is Honey’s favorite time of day. She kept odd hours, but was always an early riser.
“Mornings were invented for coffee, you know that, right?” She said once while preparing an espresso at the set up I only bought because it was the top of the line espresso machine and was something she could appreciate.
“So you say, princess.”
She’d grinned at me but neither of us had said another word. I was content to watch her while she worked, hands moving in practiced movements from her years as a barista. Her time making drinks for stuck up socialites, over. Her mornings were her own. Unhurried and fit for whatever she had a mind to do. Honey’s mind mostly set on spending time with me while I read through my morning reports and half scanned the papers for news.
Our mornings together had been mundane. Normal. The sort of thing I’d never thought I would have ever been close enough to call mine, let alone have and lose, because of some fucking prick named Zeus.
I scrub a hand over my face and roll my shoulders. The memory of mornings made sweet with Honey clings to me so thick I can nearly taste my girl on my tongue.
Charlaine and I spend all night on it. I call in a few other favors to follow up on leads she was able to glean from her deep dive on the dark web.
“He owns more than just the club. He’s old money too, but he doesn’t like to talk about it and his family doesn’t care to admit it.”
The properties he owns include one of the most prestigious golf courses in the area and the fucking theater we’d been set up in. The one with that low life that had grabbed Honey and made his move during the masquerade ball.
Another piece of the puzzle slowly comes into focus. I don’t understand where it fits, or why, but it is obvious that was Zeus’ doing.
I wonder just how he gained access to my computer to know where we would be staying. He had to have been tipped off to know we were going to the Catskills. Maybe he’d had more inside help than just a tip.
Though who needs a tip when you have an inside woman that feeding you information?
Everything down to Honey’s dresses had been picked by him, that was how the kidnapper had known which girl to grab.
Addie.
I grab my coat from where I’d tossed it hours before and pull it on.
“Where are you going?” Charlaine asks when she sees me head towards the door. She is still on the couch, papers and her set up of cables and an extra monitor taking up the space. She hasn’t slept, but I know her. Charlaine is in it deep now. It isn’t the favors she owes me or the fact that she knows I am going to pay her more than enough for her work.
It’s the why.
She wants to know why Zeus wants Honey, for the sheer sake of knowing. Her curiosity has gotten us into more than one tough spot when I was running security for her, but it is paying off in spades now. She isn’t going to stop until she has her answer and that serves me just fine.
“I have to investigate a possible breach,” I tell her.
“A mole?”
I’d taken a bullet for her once, that bought loyalty in a world where precious little did. I can trust Charlaine. Doesn’t hurt if she knows exactly who I’m making moves on.
“My assistant.”
She winces. “Ouch.” I shrug in reply and she sighs, her eyes dropping back to her computer as she begins to type again. “I’ll pull her file and start running info on her.”
“Thanks.” I slip out the door and head down the silent and dark hallway. I text Taylor that I’ll be leaving in five. It’s his normal day off, but he’s stuck close by after what went down with Honey and the club. He doesn't know what it is but he knows it’s big. My phone buzzes with his reply that he’ll be out front.
I owe him for being ready, no questions asked. He is loyal to a fault.
My footsteps echo down the hallway on account of it being Saturday morning. The building will stay this way until Monday. Empty, darkened and quiet. Just the way I like it. I’m not in the mood to answer questions or have any of the junior executives try to prove their value to me by showing me what they have done. Like I gave a fuck about them doing their damn job.
That’s the problem with white collar workers. They’ve never been tested, pushed to their limits until they weren’t sure there was any coming back from it. When you come up to the edge of who you are and look into that side of you. The side that is dark, ugly and twisted. Can you walk it back and not let it consume you? Doesn’t matter if you can or can’t. Either way you know exactly who you are.
