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“A remote location? Where? Or is that another question you’re refusing to answer?”
“Don’t be silly, Emme,” he said, turning the hole into a grave. “The Boston CIA field office.”
Irish cleared his throat as if he was about to speak again. He stopped when Emerson held up one hand.
14
EMERSON
Something had been bothering me all night. Tommy and Paxon had shown up nine months ago. Three months later, I was contacted by Dr. Benjamin. Lynx said Tommy was on Benjamin’s detail. How could that be so if the agent arrived before the doctor?
There was something they weren’t telling me, and Paxon skirting my questions only served to confirm that suspicion. Lynx was no better. He’d paid attention; at any time, he could’ve responded.
I looked between him and Paxon; this had little to do with the other men in the room. “Gentlemen, until you are prepared to be completely honest with me, there’s nothing further for us to discuss.”
Paxon approached me. “Emme, you’re a target.”
“What does that mean?”
“What do you think it means?”
I was seething at his condescending tone, and took several deep breaths in an attempt to not completely lose my shit. I looked over at Lynx, who nodded. Was he encouraging me to continue my line of questioning?
“Are you saying you believe I’m in danger?” I asked Paxon directly.
“I’m sorry, but I do, Emme. Now you understand why I’m suggesting we work from the field office.”
Something else occurred to me that made Paxon’s staging the meeting at my place this morning reckless on his part. “I want my apartment swept.”
Paxon looked confused. “Do you really think that’s necessary?”
“Yes. It’s necessary.” Lynx answered on my behalf. “She also needs a keypad entry installed.”
“I’ll take care of both,” said Decker.
I needed time to think without six sets of eyes studying my every move. “If you don’t need me for anything else right now…”
“I’ll walk you over,” Lynx offered before Paxon could. Much to my relief.
Once we were in the hallway with the door closed, he put his hand on my arm. “Emerson?—”
“I need my phone.” Whatever he had to say, I wasn’t interested in hearing. While I was more concerned with Paxon’s behavior, I still believed there were things Lynx was keeping from me too.
“Mario Andretti is on it,” he responded, winking.
I smiled despite how hard I was trying not to.
“He should deliver it shortly.”
“Thank you.”
When he bent his head as though he was about to kiss me, I moved out of reach.
“Please don’t,” I murmured. So much had happened in the span of twenty-four hours, and my mind was reeling. I needed to sort it all out. Surprisingly, I found myself wishing I could talk to Nora. I couldn’t. In fact, I couldn’t talk to anyone outside of the man in front of me and the men currently in Tommy’s apartment.
“Emerson, if you and Saint…”
I shook my head, wishing he weren’t pushing so hard. “What was it you said about me getting together with Nora?”
