Page 63 of Wicked Rush

“No, I don’t want to,” she protested. “Please, I think I can stand…maybe…”

“I’m sure you can, sweetheart, but you know what? That’s not happening right now. We’ve got to get going, and I want Seth to keep an eye on you.”

“Lars, I’m sorry.” Her voice trembled.

Braelynn’s eyes fluttered open, gazing up at him, and his heart melted at the sight of her tears. Anger. Sympathy. Desire. He hated the rush of emotions streaming through his chest. Not the time. Get your shit together. She’s going to be all right. Lars broke eye contact with Braelynn and continued to gently place her into Seth’s arms.

“Hey there, darlin’,” Seth said, his voice warm. “I promise I’m going to take care of you. Lars is going to be right back. We’ve gotta get out of here and then you guys can talk.”

As Lars walked back into his house, he glanced back to Seth. His friend carefully lifted Braelynn into the car, keeping her against his chest, stroking her hair. The comforting act gave Lars confidence that in the middle of this shit storm, everything would be all right. He hated that someone had violated his home. But a sliver of hope flickered in his mind, knowing that he was about to discover the dangerous secrets that had resulted in her being shot.

Lars stood over Braelynn, who slept in his bed. It had been a seven hour ride up the coast, and he’d been relieved when they finally reached his cabin. He’d built his sanctuary on several acres of oceanfront property off Pacific Coast Highway. An intricately designed ten foot bronze gate guarded the entrance, a stone wall blocking further access to the heavily wooded plot of land. With breathtaking views of the rugged coast and enormous cliffs, it was secluded and quiet. Few friends knew about the cabin; only Garrett and Seth had been invited. With a state-of-the-art security and camera system, intruders were easily detectible. It was nearly impossible to infiltrate the barriers. Given the instability of the three-hundred-foot cliffs, it would be foolish for anyone to attempt to climb them.

Lars glanced out the floor-to-ceiling windows in the master bedroom. Although the sun had already set, the gorgeous sky exploded in pink puffy clouds resembling cotton candy. He scrubbed his hands over his scruffy beard, considering he should have called Garrett right away. While Braelynn and Seth had slept during the long ride, he’d vacillated, finally settling on texting him in the morning. While Lars needed help, he wanted time to find out exactly what was in the files without interference.

He’d briefly flipped through the stolen documents. With nearly a hundred papers, it would take several hours to pore through them. He planned to let Braelynn sleep through the night before questioning her. While undressing her earlier, he’d found the chip in her pocket.

He fingered it, and shook his head. The one thing Braelynn hadn’t lied about was the level of her clearances. Whoever had given her the data chip was either in national intelligence or had worked directly with them. The technology hadn’t been published nor was it generally known it existed. But what he held in his hand was real, and he knew very few people who had access to that kind of classified information.

Garrett Emerson.Lars had overheard him discussing it with Evan over a year ago, when he’d accidentally interrupted an after-hours office conversation. When pressed, Garrett had denied possession of such technology. The connection, if any, between Garrett and Braelynn, however, wasn’t apparent.

Lars’ mind spun as he paced the floor. The party at Altura. Garrett didn’t just know her from the shooting. He knew she’d worked at Bart-Aqua, knew of her research. When Lars had gone to the bar, he’d observed Garrett deep in conversation with Braelynn. Given his friend’s abhorrence for Giordano, Lars had assumed he was drilling her for any kind of tidbit that would help him reopen the congressional hearings.

No, no, no.Lars shook his head, the betrayal hitting him in the gut. Garrett hadn’t been asking her about Armand Giordano. He’d been interrogating his corporate spy, enraged that she’d infiltrated his precious Altura. Lars pinched the bridge of his nose, sucking in a deep breath. Braelynn’s involvement didn’t reconcile with espionage. It hadn’t appeared she’d been doing this willingly. She may have held top level clearance but the woman was no spy. Hell, she’d practically killed herself the night she’d attempted to break into his home. Had she been coerced by Garrett?

Lars laughed to himself, stretching his neck, as all the pieces started coming together. He’d done the background checks on Dr. Braelynn Rollins. Significant chunks of her history information appeared scrubbed from existence. He’d wrongly assumed she’d been unemployed during certain periods. .

Garrett’s constant warnings about staying away from her made perfect sense. She’d worked for Emerson Industries, and he’d covered it up. His friend didn’t want him discovering whatever bullshit the two of them were involved in, stealing data from Giordano. But why would Garrett enlist an amateur like Braelynn to steal it when she knew little of technology and clearly wasn’t a trained spy? What could he possibly have on Braelynn to force her to steal it? With the stringent hiring practice Giordano implemented, how had Braelynn got a job so easily? Sure she was qualified but so were several other scientists. She wasn’t in a position that necessarily utilized her skills as a marine biologist. Did she have an inside connection? And why did Giordano go to her house and threaten her, an average employee? Maybe he knew her? But what was the connection?

Lars blew out a breath, lifted the papers off his dresser and entered his walk-in closet, flicking on the light. He crossed the large space to a keypad on the wall and typed in a code. As he did so, a wall mirror flickered with a yellow neon glow. It clicked open, revealing a hidden safe. Placing the documents and chip inside, he pecked at the keys, entering the lock sequence. As easily as it had opened, the mirror dimmed, returning to its prior state.

When he reentered the bedroom, Seth had joined them. Lars noted how his friend held Braelynn’s hand and observed the intimacy as he spoke softly to her. Her eyes blinked open, and her gaze went to Lars. Although his mind churned with questions, her sad smile caused his heart to crush.

Jesus Christ almighty, he yearned to keep this woman in his life. He wished he had a reasonable explanation for his out of control emotions. Never in his life had he lamented over a woman. Dating had been easy. He’d fuck women, and either they’d end up friends or not, but only a few remained in his life.

“Lars,” she whispered.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

“I’m sorry. Your house. I should have…” she stammered. Confused, she looked to her surroundings. “Where are we?”

“My cabin.”

“This doesn’t look like a cabin. It’s a house.”

“You like how he does that, right? I’ve told him a million times this ain’t no cabin but he likes to think he’s camping,” Seth joked.

“It’s a cabin.” Lars shrugged.

“Where’s the papers?” she asked, panic in her voice. She shoved up onto her elbows. “Wait…my pants. Where’s my…”

“I’ve got the chip, Brae.” Lars rounded the bed and sat down, giving a long sigh. “I found it when I took off your jeans…they were dirty. You’d fallen.”

“I’ve got to go. Lars…” As she went to push up from the bed, she grabbed the back of her head and fell back onto the pillow. “Fuck. What did that dick hit me with, a rock?”

“I think you may have hit your head when you fell on the driveway. It’s just a little bump.”

“My face.” Her hand went to her lip, and she gingerly tapped her fingertips to it. “Am I swollen? How bad is it?”