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She nods, and I call Murder, forcing myself to remain stationary when all I want to do is pace. I hit the speaker button and set the phone on the counter, flexing my shoulders.
I keep my eyes on Lucy while she watches me curiously. She smiles, like she’s trying to reassureme,and everything slows a bit. In the midst of chaos she knows nothing about, and even though she was injured because I screwed up, she’s still utterly confident that I’m in control.
My heart flips, caving in on itself before it doubles in size. I could love Lucinda Parker. Easily.
Thankfully, Murder answers before I panic myself into oblivion.
“Who’s hurt?” he answers in a gruff slur. “Or who am I hurting?”
“They want the master code.”
There’s rustling and a throat clear. “Shit. Shit, that’s… Gotta be Roman then, pulling the strings.”
Lucy shakes her head, but I furrow my brows. She doesn’t know the man like we do. Still, I give her the smallest benefit of doubt.
“Possibly not directly. But the only thing they can get with the code is—”
“I know. That’s why I’m saying. Cartwright has more money than we do even, so it’s not that.”
“No.” I exhale slowly, resting my hands on her knees, pressing down slightly so she doesn’t bolt. “He tried to take Lucy, too. I’m sure of it.”
Her eyes bug, body tensing, and I watch her go through her memories.
“Jesus fucking—are you sure we can’t kill ‘im? What are we gonna do?”
I wish I had an answer. The master code is what we use to encrypt the records of our…activities. It protects our clients, safeguards the personal information for every worker in my exhibits, hides where the money goes and how much.
It should be easy enough to protect, now that we know they’re after it. Unless they have their claws in someone working for us.
Lucy continues to stare at me, and we both startle when Murder barks, “Hello?”
I still don’t have an answer, however, and my eyes are getting heavier by the second. Lucy touches my cheek and glances at the phone.
“Murder?”
“...Lucy? Uh, boss, did you know she was there?”
“He knows.” She smiles. “I think…we should worry about this, uh,codething in the morning.”
I exhale through my nose, nodding.
Murder grunts, rustling blankets again. “Probably a good idea. Get some sleep, Ghost. I mean it. You, too, Luce. Night.”
He hangs up, and the room falls starkly silent as we stare at each other.
I give her legs what I intend to be an affectionate squeeze, but she forms an expression that hangs between genuine pain and ecstasy.
“Did that hurt?”
She shrugs a shoulder, shaking her head before nodding. I quirk a brow.
“Not…really, but yes. I got scuffed up in the bath, but it’s really not a big deal. Just a bruise.”
She clears her throat, a wet, bubbly noise, and white-hot panic explodes in my chest.
And because she’s so tuned into me, her face grows serious, her soft palms landing on my cheeks.
“I’m okay.”
