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“You couldn’t call?”
“Sorry, B. Had to get Red out of there ASAP. You’re lucky I had time to text Seth,” I dropped the name of a contact of ours whose specialty was making things disappear, “or else we’d have the cops crawling all over a dead body.”
“Red?” Bex raised a brow at the nickname before glancing at Rory, as if silently asking her input.
“I don’t like ‘Red,’” she admitted to Bex, apparently feeling comfortable enough to complain to a stranger whodidn’tsave her life half an hour ago. “It’s such a cliché.” I grinned as her lips turned down into the cute little frown that already felt familiar on her face. And I decided: I woulddefinitelykeep calling her Red.
Bex barked a laugh, shaking her head as we reached the top of the stairs. “Hate to break it to you, but it’ll stick. Dev loves a nickname and unfortunately doesn’t have a great imagination. Nicknames are how he shows his love.”
“But he doesn’t even know me.”
I tugged on Rory’s ponytail, gaining her attention before I told her. “I think you’re underestimating how quickly I grow attached. Plus, you’re cute when you’re annoyed, Red.” I booped her on the nose with my free hand, holding in my laughter as she sputtered. She ripped her hand away from mine, my fingers feeling the loss more than I expected, and she rubbed at her nose as if I’d punched it rather than tapped it with my finger.
We entered Alex’s office moments later, Alex settling behind his desk and fiddling with his computer keyboard while I sat in my usual chair on his right. It only took me a second to realize there were only two of the comfortable velvet chairs sittingaround Alex’s desk, one for myself and the other for Bex, who’d begun working with Alex and me late this past summer.
Rory looked nervously between Bex - who towered over her by a good half a foot - and the remaining chair left in the room. Since I was nothing if not a problem solver, I slapped my palms on my lap, Rory jumping at the sudden sound.
“Best seat in the house, right here,” I told Rory with a smile. “Hop on.”
She took a step toward me before immediately taking two steps back, opening her mouth and then closing it as if she wondered whether I was serious.
“No?” I winked at my friend-slash-coworker-slash-sparring partner. “Bex, how about you?”
Bex didn’t even reply, just rolled her eyes as she silently urged Rory to take the remaining chair while she leaned against the edge of Alex’s desk. She looked cool doing it, too. Her grungy - as in her intentional style, not an insult - clothes and well-worn combat boots contrasted against the clean, minimalist design of Alex’s desk. It used to be my favorite spot to sit and annoy Alex during our meetings, but Ames had converted me when she bought the comfy-ass chairs for the office.
Our stoic leader ignored our bout of musical chairs, tapping a few more keys on his keyboard until some security camera footage popped up on the wide television screen mounted to the wall of his office. A familiar street, the trees lining the sidewalk bare with visible frost in the early January air.
“That’s the street outside my apartment building,” Rory whispered as the footage sped up, fast-forwarding through the early morning hours. Residents went in and out of the apartment, Rory included, her bodyguards close behind. We all watched in silence as I emerged from an alcove a handful of seconds later, face serious for once, as I followed a dozen yards behind them.
No one took a second glance at me. I’d learned to stay inconspicuous. I slouched to disguise my height, keeping myself from standing too high above the rest of the people on the street. My clothes weren’t distinct; casual enough to not stand out, but nice enough to not arouse suspicion in wealthier areas. I usually kept my sleeves long enough to cover the swell of my muscles. Men with muscles stood out - to women especially - as dangerous, reminding them how easily I could overpower them if I tried. And they’d be right. This morning’s display of power was less aggressive than I’d typically exerted in the past for my job.
They were slight changes, easy edits that made a big difference when I was tasked with following someone. Tips and tricks to fit in, allowing others to flow around you without really taking you in.
It was a trait I’d recognized in Rory shortly after I began following her, her ability to blend in, though I’d initially just thought she was unassuming. I’d become too used to the women in our little group of misfits with their distinct styles.
Ames, with her band t-shirts and black jeans and piercings, blasting screamo music from her pottery studio in the backyard. Who so easily went toe-to-toe with one of the most dangerous men in the city, falling in love with him even after realizing he’d been paid to stalk her - and later continuing to do so because he’d become so obsessed.
Wren, running a floral shop with her bright smiles and flirtatious attitude, wearing sundresses and sweaters with little pom-poms on them, was the embodiment of sunshine. She was such a romantic she became friends with Alex just to help him win Ames over and later fell in love with the woman who had bullied her to tears multiple times.
Bex seemed to put such little thought into her appearance, and yet everything about herscreamedwho she was. Herworn combat boots, which put her already-tall frame close to Alex’s height. The oversized flannel shirts and cropped band t-shirts she wore over baggy jeans and pants covered in chains. The tattoos stretching across her back, softening some of the hardness she put off with her intimidating glares and the toned muscles she got from the mixed martial arts we both enjoyed.
The three of them, despite their differences in styles, lived and breathed personality. Their clothes, their facial expressions, the way they spoke, everything so clearly let everyone around them understand who they were as people.
And Rory…didn’t do any of that, which had made me think she was simply plain. Just recalling the thought now made me wince slightly, my initial thoughts on the beautiful woman next to me feeling wholly inadequate.
As soon as I started following her, I realized how wrong my judgment had been.
Chapter 4
Dev
She’d spentthe morning in the bookstore, her eyes focused on books while mine focused on her from a few aisles over. She had on a pair of jeans with a blue-and-white striped long-sleeved top, baggy enough that the end of the shirt covered her ass. It was mid-October, the weather not quite cold enough yet to justify long sleeves, though that didn’t stop her. I’d realized quickly that she was always cold, wearing late-fall clothing even when there was barely a chill in the air.
I remembered frowning at the way she kept tucking her fingers into her sleeves to warm them up.
Then we’d walked home. Or, she’d walked home with her bodyguards following close behind, my shadow trailing the trio. She’d gone inside, working while I occasionally checked the video feeds I had installed in her apartment.
I’d snuck into her apartment only a few days before, installing a couple of cameras. One in her bedroom, focused on her bed and the entrances - her bedroom door, the window. Another in her home office, where she spent most of her time working. I was too paranoid to install more, worried her bodyguards would catch sight of one in the living room or kitchen, where I assumed they spent most of their time. Thecameras allowed me to check in on her, but I usually trusted her bodyguards enough to keep her safe inside the apartment, the two of them even switching off night shifts, sleeping in her guest bedroom.
