Corps Security: The Series (73 page)

The rest of the party passes with laughter, presents, and a few tantrums, all of which are from Coop when we tell him that he can’t drive Cohen’s new, kid sized, four-wheeler. I swear that man is just a child trapped inside a grown man’s body. When Sway offers to hug it better, Coop shuts his mouth real quick.

“God, I’m so glad those kids are gone,” Melissa says as she drops down onto Greg’s lap. “But I’m definitely not ready to clean up this mess.” She laughs before laying her head against his shoulder. I watch as Greg subconsciously tightens his hold, never once breaking his conversation with Axel and Maddox, and brings his palm up to rest on her adorable belly.

“That was an unbelievably long day. Even Nate crashed before his lunch, and that boy never misses a meal.” Izzy laughs, shaking her head a few times.

I look around the room and take in my ‘family,’ getting lost in my thoughts again. It seems like just yesterday that our Greg, Izzy, and Dee trio turned into this big, loving family. Even at my darkest, I think I knew that these guys wouldn’t hurt me. Just the opposite, they would protect the women in their lives to the extreme. I didn’t always think that, but they have proven themselves over and over again. It still stings when I think about how well my protective mask hides my pain from every single one of these people I love . . . well, all but one of them.

That one person who is currently looking at me from across the table without hiding a single one of his emotions. Nope, not John Beckett. He’s looking at me like he always does. With love, longing, and complete rapture.

Jesus, between my issues with the company, my screwed up head, and my heart that beats for just one man, I can’t even tell which way is up anymore. With a mental note to make an extra appointment with Dr. Maxwell this week, I shake myself from my checkout and focus back on the conversation around me.

“ . . . in concert next month,” Emmy says in her soft voice. She’s looking right at me, so apparently, I’ve missed something.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” I ask.

“Dee, get your head out of the clouds.” Izzy laughs. Oh, my stupidly wonderful best friend. If she had any clue about how my life has been, she wouldn’t make jokes. But, it isn’t her fault that she’s looking at life through her rose-colored glasses and is completely oblivious that I’ve needed her more than ever.

“You caught me.” I laugh, but even to my own ears, I can hear how fake it sounds. “Who is coming to town? Sorry, Em, all I heard was concert.”

“That’s okay, Dee. Sam Grow’s coming back to town. I think it’s the last weekend, next month. They’re doing a big charity show. I think it would be neat if we made a girls’ night out of it.” She smiles and I can’t help but return it. Emmy is so easy to love, and even though she’s in a situation similar to Beck and me, it never stops her from making the best out of life.

“And I told her how much I love that idea. Ever since Greg used his Rico Suave skills and serenaded me with one of Sam’s songs, I’ve been a huge fan.” Melissa smiles at Greg, who is still rubbing her rounded belly.

“That sounds good to me. I think Izzy gave me his CD a few weeks ago, so I’ll make sure and listen to it beforehand. It’s been a while since we’ve had a girls’ night.”

We make plans, with Emmy promising to purchase the tickets tomorrow. After a few more hours, pizza, and more conversation, we all head to our separate homes. When I tuck myself into bed that night, even with all the worry still on my shoulders, I feel lighter than I’ve felt in a really long time.

CHAPTER 10

Dee

After Cohen’s party, things got crazy again at work. Chelcie, my personal assistant, calls and tells me that she needs me to go up to the North Carolina branch. We have another big client that is requesting a meeting, and only wants to speak with me. In my gut, I know what the issue will be, but I still hope I’m wrong.

Not knowing how long I will have to be gone this time, I pack heavy and hit the road before lunch. Thankfully, traffic is light since it’s a Sunday afternoon. After checking into the hotel and grabbing dinner, I settle in for the night. Not much different from when I’m at home, just this time, I don’t have my stockpile of ice cream.

Having my phone ring in the middle of my Sunday Bravo TV shows is a sure fire way to have my mood go straight to crap. When I see ‘Greg Calling,’ I hope that he’ll take a hint when I send the call to voicemail. Not even two seconds later, he’s calling again. Sighing deeply, I grudgingly answer. “Hey, G.”

“Oh, she speaks. Thanks for sending me to voicemail. Really sweet of you.” Sarcasm is dripping from every word.

“Sorry about that. I hit ignore instead of answer. I was just about to call you back.” I lie smoothly.

“Ha, try that on someone a little more gullible than I am.”

“Anyway, what can I do for you Greg?” I turn off the TV and toss the remote to the side in frustration.

“I told you yesterday that we would talk, and I meant it, Dee. I went by your apartment, but you weren’t there. Figured that you were either ignoring me, or you were out, so which is it?”

I could lie to him, but really, there isn’t any sense in it. He won’t think anything is up just because I’m out of town. “I had to come up to the North Carolina branch. Chelcie called me right when I got home last night and said I was needed up here. So, here I am.”

“Chelcie called you . . . on a Saturday night, to tell you to drive right up? What the hell, Dee? Did you just jump in the car first thing to avoid talking to me, or do you really have a need to be over there?”

I shouldn’t get pissed, but the flash of annoyance that washes over me is so overpowering that I can’t keep my mouth shut. How dare he act as if I’m doing something wrong here? I’ve been living my own life without one damn care from them for a while, and now that
he
wants to chat, he’s pissed that I’m gone.

“I’m not really sure why you feel like I need to check in with you? I’ve been doing just fine for a while now. Just in case you missed the memo, I’m a big girl now, Greg. I don’t even need my training pants anymore.”

“Whoa, snappy much. Someone must be on the rag.” He chuckles before sobering. I know he isn’t going to just drop it, so I wait, my breath held, for him to ask the questions I don’t want to answer. “I’m worried about you, Dee.”

“I’m fine,” I snap, a little too harshly.

“You’re not fine, and I’m insulted that you think I would believe that lie.” His voice, which had been friendly and calm, now has a hard tone to it.

“Excuse me, but you’ve been believing it for two fucking years!” I scream into the phone. It takes me about two seconds to realize my mistake.
Shit!
I slap my hand over my mouth to stop the overflowing verbal vomit before I say anything else.

“What did you just say?” Dammit. Damn. Shit. I know Greg doesn’t mean to ignore everyone around him. He has every right to be worried about Izzy and his recovery from his injuries sustained that God-awful day. It isn’t fair to hold anything against him, but in my mind, I just can’t seem to separate my pain and loneliness.

“It’s not important. I’m fine,” I stress, praying he’ll just leave it alone.

“Goddammit, Dee! I know you aren’t fine. I saw you breaking down like your world just crashed in around you yesterday. That isn’t how someone that is
just fine
acts. You can’t push that shit off on a bad day, your period, or someone stealing your newspaper. There’s something going on, and you aren’t
just fucking fine!”

“Okay, Greg, I’m going to say this the nicest way I can. Don’t worry about me. You have enough to worry about, and honestly, you know I love you like a brother, but right now, I don’t need your protectiveness. Give Cohen a hug and tell Melissa I said hi. I’m going to bed now. I have to be in the office early tomorrow so I can get everything done and get home. Greg, I mean it . . . Stop. Goodnight, I love you, go hug your wife.” I disconnect the call without giving him a second to protest or pull his crap. He’ll be pissed, but he’ll also get over it. After turning off my phone and pulling the covers up, I settle in for another restless night of sleeplessness.

* * *

My wake-up call comes at 4:45 A.M., about an hour after I finally manage to stop freaking out about the dark, jumping from every sound that I heard coming in from the window, and my mind finally shut down. I never sleep well when I’m away from my house, so I’m not sure why I thought this time would be any different.

Groggy, annoyed, and a whole lot pissed off isn’t a good way to start the day, especially knowing that I’m about to have another pile of shit land in my lap when I get into the office.

My office back in Georgia is decent in size. I have three other agents and a few other staff members. It’s not the largest, but it works for us. Back home, I’ve just moved into the same strip of businesses where Corps Security is located. When the building came up, I jumped on it. It isn’t that I need a new office, but my old one was out of an old house that had been remodeled into an office. The downside, it was in the middle of nowhere, and I had become scared to even be there by myself. So, I didn’t waste time signing the paperwork for the new space.

Here, my office is slightly larger. I’ve got six agents, plus they each have their own assistants. I had the building built from the ground up, and when it was finally finished and open for business, the sense of pride had been overwhelming. I’ve always been so proud of this office and the staff, and how we’ve managed to thrive when other small businesses have crashed.

This is my baby.

And every day that a new fire starts within the office, I want nothing more than to give this ‘baby’ up for adoption. The thrill is gone, and more importantly, I don’t feel even an ounce of pride when I walk in the doors.

Being that I’m about two hours early, and the staff shouldn’t even be in until eight, shocked would be an understatement when I pull up and see some lights on. I have been so lost in thought that, when I drive up, I don’t even check the front lot before I pull my car behind the building. I guess this would explain the ridiculous power bills; idiots keep the lights on all night! Since I’m the only one that ever parks back here, it doesn’t even cross my mind to wait until normal hours to go in.

My phone chimes a few times before I make it to the back door, and with a huff, I dig it out of my back pocket and start checking my alerts and emails. Unlocking the door quickly, I walk into the back break room, kitchen area, with my phone still in front of my face. Bad habit of mine, having the phone be a constant attachment to my body, but when you’re running two companies in two different states, you need to be available at all times.

I brush off the tingling feeling that makes my skin crawl. Being this early, I’m not surprised that I’m having another one of my ridiculous fears creep up on me. I make another mental note to talk to the doctor about that. I’m too damn old to be afraid of every bump in the night.

Speaking of, I clear the alert reminding me of my appointment with Dr. Maxwell, and switch over to my emails again and surf through the crap while I wait for the coffee to brew. My mind is struck stupid when I see a message from my mother, asking me to schedule in a call at my earliest convenience. Ha, I don’t think so. Deleting the rest of the junk, I pull up my text screen to send Chelcie a message to let her know that I’ve made it in and will see her when she arrives.

I shove my phone back in my pocket and reach for a mug. Right when my hand closes around my favorite University of Georgia mug, it hits me why I had such a sense of unease when I walked through the back door.

The alarm.

It wasn’t armed, and from what I can tell, the door sensors didn’t even chime.

Suddenly, that nagging sense of dread doesn’t seem so ridiculous. I set the mug down quietly, and with a deep breath, turn to face the door leading into the open reception area. My head does a nice imitation of a bobble head as I look between the door to the offices, and the one that leads outside. Fight or flight.

God! I’m so sick of being afraid of everything! I feel like this is a defining moment. Run again, or stand up and fight for my life.

I should know better. Doesn’t every horror movie have that scene that has you screaming at the stupid bimbo who runs straight into the dangerous killer? Yeah, I should know better, but unfortunately, my mind has decided it’s had enough of the two-year freak fest, had enough of being a scared little pussy.

Ever since yesterday and my ‘moment’ with Beck in Greg’s office, I’ve felt different. Not different enough that I can pinpoint the change, but I don’t feel so . . . damaged. I almost feel a little like the old Dee. I want that Dee back, and I’m ready to fight to get there. That’s the only reason I can think of that would make me take the steps needed to bring me to the solid wood door leading into the offices. When my hand touches the cold knob, I jump slightly, but pull my strength, and try to muster up some of that courage I thought was long gone.

You can do this, Dee. Just open the door and when you see the office is empty have a good laugh. Nothing to it.

Turning the knob, I silently push the door until there’s just enough space for me to see into the brightly lit room. I gasp when the first thing I see is a tall figure dressed in black with a mask over his face, standing right in front of the open doorway. I scream loud enough that my own ears ring and try to pull the door shut. The beefy hand that reaches out and stops the door from closing scares me enough that I lose my footing and fall to my ass.

Panting in fear, I quickly back up, knocking my head against the table in the middle of the room. I keep crawling as fast as I can backwards until my spine hits the wall with a thump. All the while, the tall figure keeps slowly stalking towards me, like a predator would his prey.

“Where is it, bitch?” The voice isn’t one I’ve heard before, but then again, the blood rushing in my ears is enough to make the most familiar voice unrecognizable.

“I don’t know what you’re looking for! P-p-please, don’t hurt me . . . If you want to take my purse, you can have it; there’s money in there. Cards too. Please, oh God, please!” Tears are streaming down my face and my body is shaking so violently that my teeth feel as if they’re rattling in my head. This is it. My miserable life is going to be over before I ever get a chance to tell the people in my life how much I love them.