The evening had turned out better than he’d thought it would. Cynthia seemed happy enough to be around him, and hadn’t said anything untoward, so maybe her comment about him getting upset had been a one-off. Either way, it appeared as though he would be seeing more of her. Fox was definitely smitten. He hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off her all evening.
With him focused on Steff, and Fox focused on Cynthia, anything could’ve happened in the restaurant, and the two of them would’ve been completely oblivious to it.
The journey to Steff’s place was made in silence. He still hadn’t approached her with the idea of going to his apartment after Deal had mentioned it.
The security in Steff’s building was tight, but if anyone knew ways to get around the toughest security systems, it was him and the others at Alliez. Cass could hack almost every system that had been invented. And if a new one came along, it wouldn’t take her long to figure out how to break it. Nothing was safe with Cass around, and he was extremely glad she was on their team and one of the good ones.
What would happen when she and Irish decided to have kids—because they were bound to with the way the two of them clucked around the others’ kids—was anyone’s guess. But he suspected that Cass would continue to work, and maybe Irish would be a stay-at-home dad. He chuckled at the thought of the gruff former Delta being surrounded by diapers and crying kids. Being Irish though, he’d handle it all without blinking.
“What are you laughing at?” Steff hooked her arm around his and leaned into him. He pressed a kiss to her head, breathing in her cherry blossom scent.
He quickly explained what had been going through is mind as they rode the elevator up to her floor. The second they stepped out, the hairs on the back of his neck stood to attention. He tightened his hold on Steff.
Something wasn’t right.
“Dalton, what’s wr?—”
“Shh.” It came out harsh, and a pang of regret for being so, hit him, but he brushed it aside. Keeping Steff safe was a priority, and if that meant he had to be harsh with her, then he would.
The elevator doors whispered shut behind them, and he almost wished he’d shoved Steff back inside, but that would make her vulnerable.
Jag closed his eyes. As if she could tell that something serious was going on, she pressed herself against him, her breath puffing out softly against his neck.
He concentrated on his surroundings with his eyes closed, his sense of hearing heightened, and he made note of what he could hear. The low hum of the air conditioner. The slight buzz coming from the fluorescent lights. The thump of bass coming from one of the apartments. All the normal things you’d expect in an apartment building.
His eyes popped open, and he blinked a couple of times to adjust to the light again. Steff’s apartment door couldn’t be seen from where they stood, which was one of the reasons why he hadn’t moved. He didn’t know if it was compromised. Or if someone was waiting for them. He grabbed his phone out and fired off a quick text to Fox, seeing as he lived the closest.
Code red at Steff’s.
Fox would understand the message. They had their own methods of relaying when a situation was occurring. His phone buzzed in his hand, but Jag ignored it. His friend would come, and no doubt he’d let the others know that Jag needed help.
“Stay behind me,” he muttered.
“Okay.” He barely heard her response.
Jag would love to take the time to put her somewhere safe, but she would be by herself and an easy target if he did so. The safest place for her, until help arrived, was with him.
With measured steps, he made his way down the hall toward her apartment. His eyes darting left and right, looking for any sign another apartment had been broken into and that was why his senses were on high alert.
It was wishful thinking, and he knew it. No other apartment would be touched, bar Steff’s.
They were within a few feet of her door, and already he could see that it was ajar. Whoever had gone in hadn’t smashedthe lock, that would’ve drawn attention. It appeared as if they’d picked the lock with ease—or worse, had used a key.
Jag shook that thought away, not wanting it to take root and grow into a massive issue. Again, he was making deals that couldn’t be paid.
He reached down to his ankle and pulled out the knife he had strapped there. He never went out unarmed, but he made it so that the everyday person couldn’t see anything.
Steff gasped. “You had that on you all night?”
“Always do,” he responded.
He reached out and pushed the door open, waiting a couple of heartbeats to see if someone would jump out at them. When nothing happened, he took a cautious step inside, extremely glad that Steff was behind him and couldn’t see what had become of her apartment.
The whole place was trashed. Her couch cushions were ripped. Books tossed to the ground. Her collection of knickknacks smashed.
How had no one heard any of this was his first thought, because whoever had done this wouldn’t have been able to do it quietly.
“Oh my god! My home!” Steff’s tortured cry spurred him into action. He hauled her close, holding her head against his chest.
