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His eyebrows lift in surprise, and he tilts his head slightly, considering. "It wouldn’t be her usual MO," he says. Only I can hear thebutcoming. "Butit’s not beyond the realm of possibility. She’s not able to get to us the way she usually would, so she could be choosing to target us this way instead."
“She told Em that she had a plan,” I say aloud, remembering what Emilia told us from their meeting.
“She could be attempting to distract us so she can get to Emilia,” he surmises aloud. “Keep you—and possibly me—at work and away from the house.”
“Yeah, but Wilder would still be around,” I counter. “He might not have the training we have, but he’s no less deadly, especially concerning Emilia’s safety.”
Kai cocks a brow, clearly not as confident in Wilder’s ability. “I don’t doubt he’s capable, but would he genuinely put himself in the line of fire for her?”
“Yes,” I state resolutely. No hesitation, no second guessing. He's an absolute dickhead, and he might deny it till his dying breath. Nevertheless, when it comes to protecting her, he’d do it just as fiercely as we would.
Besides, I’ve seen how he looks at her since the kidnapping. The hatred isn’t as pronounced, and that familiar softness he would always get in his eyes when he was around her is back. Plus, based on what I saw when I walked in the other day, I'm guessing he's gotten over his shit and finally opened his eyes to realize she'd wormed her way back into his heart—whether he accepted it or not.
Kai studies me for a long moment before conceding. He appreciates that I know Wilder better, and while he might be a bit of a loose cannon, if I trust him with Em, then Kai knows he can too.
“In any case,ifthis is Mel—and I wouldn’t automatically assume it is—she’ll have something planned to keep Wilder distracted too.” I nod in agreement. “We’ll tell Wilder to be on his guard, and in the meantime, you need to find out for sure if this is Mel or not, because if it isn’t, Nocturnal Enterprises has a serious problem on its hands.”
Chapter19
EMILIA
Absently sipping on a glass of wine, my eyes are glued to the television as the entire story about Randall Compton’s murder unfolds. With every vile word out of the reporter’s mouth, I’m getting closer to tossing my drink at the screen—glass and all.
"That’s hearsay!" I yell at the TV when she repeats—for what must be the fifth time—how Nocturnal Enterprises is the primary suspect in the investigation. "Where’s your proof?"
“Talking to the TV now, are we?” Wilder chuckles, walking into the kitchen. “I hadn’t realized you were so starved for company, Angel.”
I shiver at the familiar nickname and the fact that it’s not tinged with hatred for a change. “Of course, I’m starved for company,” I snark. “Anyone who talks to me ends up dead, andyouhaven’t exactly wanted to be around me. Now Kai’s avoiding me, so I basically just have Hawk to talk to, and we both know he’s not exactly the chatty type.”
“Only the people that touch you end up dead,” Wilder unhelpfully corrects, earning himself a deadly glower, which he deftly ignores. “What did the television do to earn your wrath, anyway?”
“They’re spouting absolute bullshit about Nocturnal Enterprises.”
Right on cue, the reporter speaks up. "For those of you just joining us, senatorial candidate Randall Compton has been found murdered in his home in the early hours of this morning. Police are questioning those in charge at Nocturnal Enterprises, a private security company that was tasked with Mr. Compton’s safety. Nocturnal Enterprises has been making a name for itself in recent years, and it is believed that Mr. Compton himself hired the company. Their inability to protect the front-runner for senator has raised some disturbing questions. As of yet, the police have not arrested anyone, but stay tuned as the story unfolds."
“See!” I exclaim, waving at the television. “Absolute horseshit! And she calls herself a reporter,” I snarl, disgusted.
Taking an overly zealous gulp of wine, it goes down the wrong way, and I end up choking on it. Smacking myself on my chest, I cough and sputter until I manage to clear my airway.
Noticing that Wilder hasn’t commented on the baloney spewing out of the reporter’s mouth—nor did he jump to my rescue as I choked to death on wine—I turn to face him.
My lips part to demand he agrees with me, but the words falter as I catch sight of his pale complexion. He’s still staring at the television, where the wordsSenatorial Candidate Randall Compton found dead, play on repeat at the bottom of the screen.
“Wilder? Are you alright?”
He doesn’t seem to hear me, his attention transfixed on the screen for another long minute before spinning on his heels and running from the house. All I can do is stare after him as the front door slams shut in his wake.
What the hell was that all about?
Dwelling on Wilder’s more peculiar than normal behavior for another five minutes, I push it out of my mind as I notice the time. Sliding off the barstool, I rush upstairs to change. Hawk was working late, but he texted ten minutes ago to say he’d be home in half an hour, so I’ve got twenty minutes. I want to have everything ready for him.
From what I gathered from the occasional text I received from him, he’s been in and out of meetings all day, attempting damage control and trying to find the source of the leak. I’m hoping a nice, home-cooked meal will ease some of the tension from his stressful day.
And failing that, I got Hadley to buy me some sexy lingerie—I didn’t want to use my own cards or have Mel catch me in a lingerie shop. Despite her whole-body shudder and fake gagging noises when I pleaded with her to buy me something that would ensure her brother is fucking me against the table before the end of dinner—although I deliberately didn’t mention said underwear was specifically for Hawk—she went all out and bought me three outfits.
The symbolism is not missed—three outfits, three guys.
Laying all three of them on the bed, I tap my finger against my lip as I try to decide which one Hawk might like best. I run the tip of my finger over the dark red chemise before moving on to the pale pink corset with matching lace thong and stockings. Dismissing both, I turn my attention to the final outfit—a longline black leather bra with lace trim and golden zippers along the cups and running down the center, complete with leather panties and a zipper that turns them crotchless in an instant.
