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“That does sound nice.” I’m starting to feel a bit claustrophobic in the penthouse. I don’t want to say that and sound ungrateful though. “I obviously have nowhere else to be. You said you found something though. What was that about?”
“That was nothing to do with you. It was unrelated.”
I look up into his hazel eyes and know, after years of being lied to, that I’m being lied to again. I’m too scared to call him on it though. I hate it. I hate knowing something is wrong but being too scared to speak up. I’m safe with them, I know that, but I can’t bring myself to make waves. I just smile and give a slight nod though I can’t help but feel disappointed.
“Why don’t you go grab some of the stuff Sawyer got you? I’ll get one of his bags for you to use.”
“Okay.” I pause, gathering courage to ask more questions, but Grant shoots me a dark look that sends me scurrying off to my room.
I start organizing things into piles and quickly realize that I won’t be fitting all this into a simple duffel bag. He got me so much. Maybe I’ll just take the necessities. I definitely don’t need all this—especially not where I may end up.
My uncle is out of the question. He’s living a retired life in the South of France. I don’t want to show up on his doorstep and ask for help. My godparents are still traveling the world with the same charity my parents worked with. I could easily find my way to them and find work that way. It would be hard for Tripp to find me there. He doesn’t even know who my godparents are, so he’d never know where to look.
I’m so lost plotting my next move that I don’t hear Nolan come in with the suitcase. I nearly jump out of my skin when he drops it on the bed beside me. My heart feels like it’s beating at a hundred miles an hour as my hand flies to my chest.
“Shit, Livvy.” He moves toward me but stops short. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
I reach out and grip his forearm. I don’t know why, but touching him grounds me and calms my overstimulated body. He relaxes as I do. I barely hold myself back from wrapping myself around him. I have to learn how to overcome this without using the guys as a crutch. It’s not like they’re always going to be there for me to lean on.
After a moment of watching me intensely, he looks at the suitcase he brought. “Well, I didn’t realize he had his assistant buy all of Fifth Avenue.” He reaches back and ruffles his hair. “Should’ve figured though. His closet could fit all our clothes with room left over.”
“Yeah, I don’t know if I’ll end up needing all of it.”
“Just take the essentials and warm casual clothes. It’s cold up there this time of year.”
7
LAKE
I letmyself into Sawyer’s apartment to see if everyone is ready. The chopper is already up on the roof, ready for us as soon as we’re set to go. Grant’s standing in the kitchen talking to Nolan and trying his hardest to ignore Liv when I walk in. I know why he’s acting like an asshole, but she doesn’t, and I can see the hurt all over her face when she tries to say something and he brushes her off. He’s going to have to let go of his guilt, or it’s going to create a crack in our group dynamic that’s impossible to fix.
“Everything set?” he asks as I walk up to the group.
“Yeah, the helicopter is waiting, and things at the estate are ready for us.”
“Sawyer has a partner meeting at the firm, so he won't be going up with us tonight,” Nolan informs me as he bends to pick up a duffel bag.
Grant already has one of Sawyer’s designer pieces of luggage in his hand, which I assume is what Liv is using. There are no other bags, causing me to pause and look at him questioningly.
“I have to come back to the city tonight. One of the managers called in,” he explains.
I grunt in acknowledgement. I don’t believe him one bit. I turn and lead the way to the stairs. We could take the elevator up the two levels to the roof, but I know Liv isn’t a fan. I can’t blame her for it one bit after hearing about her experience. The fact that he would lock her in a room like that makes my fucking blood boil. My knuckles are scabbed today because I immediately went to my punching bag and took every ounce of aggression out on it last night.
“Breathe, brother.” Nolan squeezes my shoulder and pulls me out of my thoughts. “We need to keep calm around her. No growly Hulk-mode bullshit. Will you be okay taking the first couple days on your own?”
“Yes.”
“Did you clear out the compound?”
“Yeah, essential personnel only, and they’ve all been briefed to stay out of sight unless there’s an emergency.” The last thing we need is Liv realizing that my estate is actually one of the compounds I use for interrogations and occasionally executions. The criminals we deal with there aren’t good people; in fact, they’re the worst of the worst. They are the ones that continually slip through the system and wreak havoc. Even knowing that, I still don’t think Liv would approve or understand. Her heart is too big.
I push open the steel door leading to the roof and everyone follows me up the metal staircase. Jared, my pilot, starts the rotors up as we each take one side of Liv. We have her in a sweatshirt with the hood pulled up over her hair. Some might think we’re being paranoid, but with drone technology and Tripp’s resources, he could have someone out here watching us. There’s a reason she came to us for help, because she had no one else. He knows that, and there’s no way he’s not watching us.
I take the empty seat beside Jared while Nolan and Grant flank Liv. They help her get her headset on and buckle in. Luckily flying isn’t something that’s ever bothered her, if anything she loves it. A lot of the places she traveled to with her parents were so remote, they’d have to fly in. Maybe I’ll take her for a flight around the Catskills tomorrow just to get out for a while. Even though the town my compound is near is small and unassuming, we still don’t think we should be taking her out in public yet.
“While Grant is actually distracting her,” Nolan’s voice rings through my headset, “last night she wanted to sleep between Sawyer and me. Are you up for that, or do you want her alone? Do you want her to stick with me tonight?”
I know this is his subtle way of asking if I still have nightmares. I have PTSD from my time in the military. My unit was ambushed in the mountains of Afghanistan, and only three of us survived. I was shot in the abdomen and barely made it out alive by the time we were found twenty-six hours later. Early on, I’d wake up in a cold sweat, fighting non-existent men. I haven’t had a dream like that in years though, and I rarely sleep regardless.
