Bleeding Edge: Elliot Security (Elliot Security Series Book 2) by Evie Mitchell (short story to read .txt) 📗

after they left, Luc and I mapped out a plan of attack for the immediate and a time frame with pretty open endings.

As these things went, they could take us five minutes or five months. Our longest job still going − just under two years and lots of money and we were only in the beginning stages of the job. Time, in this industry, is everything.

We finished an hour later with a rough plan of attack. I started to pack up my pens and papers as Luc leaned back in his chair, hands hooked behind his head, watching me with a blank expression.

I glanced over frowning at him. “Everything okay?”

“Emmie, you need to tell me what’s going on.”

I blinked and sat down. “Going on? We’re looking into a skimming case.”

Luc tapped a hand against the table, eyes narrowing on me. “When are you leaving for London?”

“Twenty-first.” The lie fell easily.

He leaned back in his chair. “What’s the company called?”

I blanked.

Oh, damn.

“It’s a research and development arm of a parent company. I’m not sure they have a name just yet.”

Idiot! Basic cover 101. How did I not anticipate this?

Because you don’t want to leave…

I ruthlessly blocked the subversive voice.

He raised an eyebrow. “And you’re comfortable with that?”

“Sure.” I shrugged, playing with the lid of one of my pens. “I’ve always wanted to visit Europe. Now’s a good time to go. Nothing holding me here.”

“Nothing?”

I shrugged again, eyes on my hands.

“You’d tell me if something was wrong?”

I glanced up, immediately glancing away. “Yeah.”

“Emmie.”

He waited till I finally looked up.

“Just tell me.”

I stood abruptly, pushing up, reaching for my cane with one hand as I scrambled to pull my papers together with my other. “You’re crazy. There’s nothing to… I have–” I sucked in a breath, forcing calm. “There’s nothing to tell. I need to get back to work.”

Luc watched me walk to the door. “Em, one chance. I’ll give you till tonight.”

I took a deep breath forcing a smile on my face, turning back to reassure him. “I’m not sure why you think anything’s wrong, but I’m good. I’m excited. Everything’s good. Thanks though.”

Luc’s eyes narrowed. “You’re sticking with that?”

I forced a laugh. “You’re funny. I’ll catch you later.”

Shit.

Chapter Twenty-Six

* * *

Emmie

My plan for tonight had been to start packing. Instead, I’d made dinner and crashed in front of the TV. Turned out life threatening injuries took time to recover. Go figure.

A knock interrupted my viewing. I shuffled to the door, finding a grim-faced Luc on the other side. My heart leapt. I forced a casual smile.

“Hey, what are you doing here?”

A muscle jumped in his cheek. “Let me in.”

I pushed a thick lock of hair behind my ear and leant against the door, blocking his entrance. “Did we have plans?”

He placed a hand on my belly and gently pushed, moving into my apartment and dropping a bag on my small coffee table.

“Sit.”

I blinked, still beside the door. “What?”

“Keys, sit down.”

Door closed, we sat on my couch. I tucked a soft pullover around me and curled my legs up on one side, as he opened the backpack and started laying out thick manila files. My tongue felt too big for my mouth, my pulse thumping as I struggled against the anxious clamp of my stomach.

His blue eyes met mine. “You know what these are?”

I shook my head.

“These are examples of our employee files. You work for Pax, you get a file. We have to know who we’re working with. Our reputation is too important to jack it up by hiring an unknown.”

“Okay…?”

He pointed at the thickest two. “Those are mine and Brean’s.” Luc pulled out a slim file less than a quarter of their size. “This is yours.”

He leaned back, all charcoal long-sleeved Henley rippling over dark jeans, and looked directly at me, blue eyes stormy.

“You ready to tell me what’s going on?”

I avoided his gaze. “I’m not very interesting.”

“Bullshit.” My eyes flew to him. He glowered at me, every muscle in his body alert. “Don’t make me search. You know I won’t play fair. Not after the last few months.”

I swallowed nervously and shuffled on the couch, plucking at the blanket with sweaty palms. “Seriously, Luc, I’m boring.”

“I don’t work with people I don’t trust. My gut, the last few months, the last year? I trust you. Everything says you’re a good person.” He ran a hand through his thick hair, causing the unruly ends to stick up, and shook his head. “But my info says you’ve got shit to hide. Just tell me what it is.”

Little bubbles of anger and resentment burst. I looked him dead in the eye, my voice tight. “You got this from what exactly? My small folder?”

“Jesus, Emmie. Stop fucking with me. I got this from the way you dress, the way you drive a piece-of-shit disposable car, the apartment that’s a throwaway. Fuck. The last three months I’ve been here” −he waved a hand around gesturing to the apartment, then stabbed a finger down at the couch− “I’ve practically been living in your apartment and have you taken a chance? No.”

“If you didn’t want to be here–”

“This is not about me!”

“Then why do you care about the way I dress?!”

He rolled his eyes and gestured to me. “Jesus. You wear camouflage. You’re hot. You flaunt that shit? No. You hide. And that isn’t right.”

“Fuck you, Lucien. I didn’t ask for this.”

“I do not have time for this shit. You wanna tell me what’s going on, or am I going to have to lay it out?”

I huffed out an angry breath. “I don’t even understand what is going on right now! Why are you doing this? Bring up all this shit?”

He looked me dead in the eye. “Because I want you to be happy. That night…”

We were both silent remembering the shooting. He reached across the couch, tucking a chunk of hair behind my ear, eyes serious.

“I need to know if you’ve got problems. Tell me what’s causing you to live like this.”

Shit.

I changed