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A flare of annoyance surges inside me. “A backup plan? You had a backup plan, and you didn’t want to use it for me when I was asking for your help yesterday?”
“Shut up,” he snaps. “Not everything is about you, Cynthia. This plan is a backup for a reason. It’s going to send the whole firm into a frenzy when all hell breaks loose.”
He strides to the door. I automatically follow.
“No.” He halts me, holding his hand up between us. “You stay here. Keep watch for anyone coming and going. It may be late, but that doesn’t mean we’re the only ones here. We can’t have anyone tying this back to us. I need to go to my office and get something.”
I nod, not fully understanding what Trent has planned, and too worried to ask. He leaves me alone in the conference room, waiting.
Time crawls by. Five minutes turn into ten, then fifteen. A full thirty minutes pass before Trent returns, looking redder in the face than when he left. He aggressively loosens his tie, popping the top button of his shirt. His chest rises and falls as he comes to lean forward on the conference table, his palms flat on the surface.
Zoned out, Trent stares at the glass surface.
Did something happen on his way to his office? Something to upset Trent more than I already have?
Hesitantly, I hedge, “Is everything okay?”
“No,” he admits in a biting tone. Instead of elaborating on what’s eating at him, Trent pulls out what looks like a micro flash drive from inside his suit coat. “But it will be.”
“What is it?”
“Security.”
“What exactly will it do?”
He sighs, annoyed by my relentless questioning. “It’s malware.”
My jaw drops. “Where did you get it?”
“What does it matter where I got it? I have it, and it’s all we’ve got to help us.”
I eye the flash drive before looking at Trent. Licking my dry lips, I bravely ask, “Why do you have it?”
Trent is silent for a moment. His jaw tics like he’s contemplating answering my question. “When you told me you were pilfering money, I reached out to a guy on the dark web who creates software viruses for poor suckers like me. I knew your thieving could backfire and screw everything up.”
Stepping around me, he goes to the larger of the computers set up in the room. He inserts the flash drive into the computer before shooing me away. “Head out the back way. If you run into anyone, keep your head down and avoid communication. Don’t stick around to talk. Don’t engage.”
“And you? What are you going to do?”
“I’ll take the front exit.”
“But you’re more likely to be seen,” I rasp, my voice laced with concern.
A tight smile forms on his face. “Don’t say I never cared.”
A sob bubbles up from my lungs, optimism gripping my heart.
“One more thing.” Trent bends to one knee.
For a joyful moment, I hold my breath, as it looks like he’s about to propose. I’ve seen the ring in his top drawer, the one he had since the beginning of our relationship, a ring never meant for me. It’s been missing the past week. Could he have pawned it to use the money to get me a ring instead?
Instead of pulling out a ring, Trent pulls out his pistol from his ankle harness. He hands me the pocket-sized Beretta. “Take it. In case you need to make an emergency getaway.”
My hand trembles as I take the small weapon into my possession. I knew Trent had a handgun, but he always kept it under lock and key at home. “Why is this on you?”
“After what happened this morning on my bike route, I felt it necessary to be armed at all times.”
Shaking, I put the tiny handgun into the waistband of my slacks, concealing it under my suit jacket. I swallow the emotions clogging my throat as I stare at the man I love doing what he must.
