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“So what’s going on, Rick?” Seth said, trying to get things professional again. “What triggered the alarm?”
“I don’t know yet,” he answered, studying the cameras as Seth hit the so-called ‘panic button.’ The thick door slid home, and we were now as secure as possible. I supposed if someone really wanted to get me, they could try a Mission: Impossible type of stunt but I think it would have taken a freaking rocket launcher to get to us.
“Can you find out what’s going on? I mean, shouldn’t you guys know this stuff?”
I tried not to sound shrill, but I knew these guys got paid a lot for what they did. Shit, I could have run into the panic room and locked the door myself. I didn’t need three big, burly security guards to do that for me.
“I mean, this is my home, you know?”
Rick shot a glance in my direction, but his face remained neutral. Probably thought I was a huge fucking bitch.
“We secure you,” he said patiently, walking over to an old school landline phone and lifting its receiver. “The apartment isn’t our concern.”
“Yeah well, it’s a big concern of mine,” I said.
Ugh. I needed to take it down a notch. I was still exhausted, and now scared. Combined, the two were not pretty.
“I hear you, Miss Connor. Give us a couple minutes to find out what’s up. We’re checking in with the building team and the police,” Rick said. “Seth, watch the monitors. Parker… find a shirt.”
* * *
