Somehow, I need to reward Syn for his diligence. He packed all of my makeup, hair stuff, and two work outfits for me. He promised to stop by my apartment before coming back to the house today to grab a bunch of my other clothes. He even brought a giant suitcase in his car with him when he, Allistar, and Marak left for work. The four of them normally carpool to work, apparently, but since Maverick will be coming to work with me, the suitcase took his seat.
A quick call to my boss eased any worry of Maverick’s insistence to follow me around work. He was happy to do anything needed to keep me safe and even happier with the knowledge I’ll be back to work. My eagerness to get back to work and do something must show when I skip down the stairs the following morning.
Maverick watches me, grins, and shakes his head.
"What?" I frown.
He takes the last drink of his coffee, sets the mug in the sink, then turns around to face me as I slip onto the same barstool as the morning before. He shakes his head again. "You look nice."
I survey my silky white blouse tucked into my black slacks. A navy blazer and matching navy heels add a small bit of color. My silver drop earrings and matching necklace generally complete this outfit, but Syn didn't pack them. "Thank you. You look pretty good yourself."
Maverick decided on black jeans and a dark gray V-neck shirt. His wavy dark hair is pulled back in the standard half ponytail he always wears. It makes me wonder what he’d look like with his hair totally down. His black hoodie is zipped up to his chest. "Cold?"
He smirks and shakes his head. "No, but it hides the gun." He opens the hoodie slightly, showing me the pistol holstered to his hip. "People get nervous when they see a guy walking around with a gun strapped to his side.”
"I can't imagine why," I mutter sardonically.
He simply shrugs. "You ready to head out? Or do you want to eat first?"
"I eat at work. The food there is actually decent." Though, I do grab a soda from the fridge on my way out of the kitchen.
He nods and heads for the door, only pausing to grab a black tactical backpack on his way. The drive to work is quiet except for me giving him directions. He parks in the employee only lot and follows me into the building. It takes a good thirty minutes to get to my office because everyone stops us. They ask where I've been or if I'm doing okay. To the ones who don't already know by word of mouth what happened, I simply say some things came up. The rest, I brush off as best I can in a polite manner. It's not exactly something I want to stop and chat about to people I rarely speak to. Sure, we see each other daily and talk professionally when needed, but the way they act like they genuinely care about me simply to get the dirt annoys me. Spreading stories and feeding into drama isn’t something I appreciate.
Finally reaching my office, I rush in and close the door as soon as Maverick slips in behind me. He raises a brow at my behavior but doesn’t comment, and I don’t elaborate.
Too late, I realize he has nothing to do all day, and a pang of guilt hits me. "If you want, I can try to find a computer or something for you to play on? I don't have a television or anything fun in my office. Though the break room has one if you want to go chill in there."
Maverick chuckles. He isn't a smiley kind of guy, so his deep chuckle does funny things to my body. "I planned ahead." He sets his backpack down on the comfy chair in the corner of the office and pulls out his laptop. "There's plenty of paperwork I can do from here while you work."
"Oh," I mutter, suddenly feeling awkward. "Okay, cool."
Maverick studies me with his brows drawn together for a few seconds. He sets his laptop down on top of his bag and strides around the desk to stand in front of me. I crane my neck to see him since the top of my head only reaches his shoulder.
"You're nervous." It isn't a question, but I nod anyway. "What's wrong?"
At first, I shrug, ready to stir the pot a little bit and make light of my mood. But something in Maverick's eyes stops me. He genuinely wants to fix whatever is bothering me. I cave, not able to tease him when he’s being sweet, and take a deep breath. "It's a lot of things, I guess. People asking me if I'm okay, like they care, when I know they don't. You're stuck here all day while I work, and I feel guilty over that. You could be off doing more important crap, or getting paid to be at work, but instead, you're here because of me. Plus, I don't know what to say when people start asking me why I'm being followed around all day, every day, for who knows how long."
"Hey," Maverick grabs my chin gently between his thumb and forefinger, "take a deep breath for me."
I do as he asks, again fighting the urge to defy him. He's helping me; I'm not going to be a brat and ruin it. His expression softens when I exhale slowly. "Fuck the people asking if you're okay, you handled it the same way I would have. They don't need to know anything about your life. They also don't need to know why I'm here, or the other guys when they come with you. If they ask, just say you’re helping us with a project for work. Leave it at that."
His idea is a good one, and I file it away for later, knowing I'll need it with all the nosey people in the building. "As far as feeling guilty over me having to be here, don't." His tone hardens with the last word, though his features remain soft. "If I didn't want to be here, I wouldn't be. I could easily have asked one of the others to come with you. I wanted to come, Taylor. We all want to keep you safe, as much as you fight it. Plus, I am getting work done. I'm just doing it from here. The others will probably do the same thing when they come with you."
"If," I correct.
He frowns. "Huh?"
"You said when they come to work with me. It's only if they do. If you guys catch McCreepearson, you won't have a reason to follow me around anymore." Even to my own ears, there's a hint of disappointment in my voice.
It isn't like I want to be stalked, but will the guys want to hang around me when this is all over? Will I ever see them again?
Maverick doesn't answer. Instead, his eyes flicker to my lips. I dart my tongue out, licking the sudden dryness of my lips away. Something changes in the way Maverick holds my chin. He tightens his fingers, though his grip remains gentle. He uses the firmer hold to angle my head the way he wants and lowers his lips to mine.
Immediately I open for him, allowing his tongue access to explore mine. Maverick inhales sharply and wraps his free hand around my waist to pull my body against his. I gasp at the unexpected move, partly from shock and partly from pleasure in the feel of his hard body against mine. His fingers on my chin slide down my neck, around to my back, and finally down to hold tightly onto my ass. I moan and lean into him.
As I reach up to pull the tie from his hair so I can run my fingers through it, someone knocks on my office door. Whoever it is may as well have thrown me into an ice-cold pool. I jump away from Maverick and place my fingers to my lips as if it’ll remove any evidence of the kiss.
"Come in." My voice shakes almost as hard as my body. Maverick doesn't take his eyes off me, but he does back away and stands to the side as the person enters the room.
My boss walks in with a wide smile, completely oblivious to the tension in the room. "Taylor, it's great to have you back." He rounds the desk and gives me a friendly hug.
Maverick tenses, but I simply roll my eyes. The man is like an uncle to me, and Maverick doesn't need to worry about my safety with Robert. He's a big bear, always happy and laughing big belly laughs at his own jokes.
"I'm glad to be back, Robert," I admit, and it's true. Work makes me happy. I love my job.
He pats my shoulder. "Good, good. You do have a lot of stuff to go through, but I just came by to say hello and tell you to please take your time with the work. Don't get stressed out, and if you need any help, send some of it over to Wyatt. He said he'd gladly help you out if needed."
"He's a good guy." I nod and make a mental note to thank Wyatt next time I see him. He's a quiet guy. He doesn’t generally socialize with anyone here, but he always jumps at the chance to lend a hand where needed.
"That he is, sweetie." He pats my shoulder once more, then heads for the door. He pauses and sends a small nod to Maverick. “Thank you for keeping her safe. She’s a great gal, and we’d hate for anything to happen to her.”
Maverick doesn’t say a word. He simply nods once sharply.
“Welcome back, and don't hesitate to call if you need anything, Ms. Taylor." Robert leaves and closes the door behind him, either ignoring or unaware of Maverick’s unease.
Maverick watches the door for a long time after it closes. I ignore his odd behavior and get to work. I sit down at my desk and boot up my computer. Maverick startles me when he spins on his heel and strides quickly to his computer. After he plugs it in, he sits in the big comfy chair without a word.
He doesn't bring up the kiss or act as if it ever happened, so I don't either.
Marak has done the same thing with our activities of the other night. Nothing appears different between us, and I'm not about to bring up what happened and make it awkward. It wasn't as though I planned to kiss Maverick or sleep with Marak. It just happened without any real consideration for my actions. I don't regret any of it, but I don't know what I'll do if it causes problems between them.
Before my hookup with Marak, I'd decided to live a little and let the chips fall where they may with whoever I found interest in and who found interest in me. The problem now is I've found interest in all of them. I keep arguing with myself over whether to tell them I’ve changed my mind about staying with them. At some point, someone will figure out what I've done and call me on it.
"You need to eat." Maverick's voice causes me to jump. I was too engrossed in my work and mulling over my predicament I almost forgot he was in the room with me.
I glance at the time and notice it's already noon. "Crap, yeah, you're right. Okay, let me finish this report, and we can run down to the cafeteria. I forgot to stop for breakfast when we came in."
He simply nods, then turns back to his computer. He's stoic since the kiss, and I can't figure out what to do about it. If I bring it up and he doesn't want to talk about it, then he could blow up or make things difficult. If I leave it be but he wants to talk about it, then he'll stay pissed. And they say women are complicated.
Finally, I make the decision that it's safer to ignore his mood. He’s an adult; he can come to me if he needs to talk. With my mind made up, I lock my computer and stand up. "Ready?"
He nods, closes his laptop, then stands to follow me out of the office, down to the cafeteria. His eyes widen at the selection of food. It's a pretty kick-ass cafeteria for a simple office. "I'm going to grab a sandwich, I think. What about you?"
He scans the options for a full minute before finally gesturing over to the burgers. "I'll get a burger, but let's get yours first."
I snicker. "Hey, bossy man, I don't think twenty feet in a crowded room is going to be a huge issue. Grab your lunch, I'll grab mine."
His eyes flash when I call him bossy but doesn't comment. I can't tell if he's unhappy with it or liked it. Yet another question to add to the never-ending list. Maybe I should carry around a notepad and write down my queries.
He finally relents. "Okay, I'll be watching, though."
His comment is more literal than I first thought. The line for sandwiches isn't more than ten feet from the burger line, yet Maverick keeps his eyes on me the entire time. It almost worries me the way he hardly blinks. His arms cross over his chest, muscles bunched tight. His gaze is narrow and alert. He stands with his feet shoulder-width apart, statue-like, except when he needs to move up in line. Even then, he only takes a few steps forward, then resumes the same stance.
It would be a lie if I said his hard attitude didn't turn me on. At the same time, I wish he would relax a little bit. His agitation isn't only from the kiss and uncomfortable silent aftermath in my office. He had pent-up tension when I met him. It only appears to increase by the day, probably because of me.
When it's his time to order, he finally turns away from me, but my eyes stay locked on him, or more specifically, his firm ass. Even from the back, Maverick’s body language says, "fuck off". His hoodie does nothing to hide the bunched muscles of his shoulders.
Maverick always has a bit of tightness to him. He's the lead of his team. It comes with a little bit more stress than the others, but something about him makes me wonder if there's more to it. It's almost like he makes himself responsible for everyone else and their safety. If something bad happens to any of his friends, he takes full responsibility for it. It would be interesting to witness him let loose and have some fun for a while. I wonder if I could find out what his outlet is, and we could do it together. Grumpy likes to shoot at the range when he needs to let out some aggression, maybe Maverick is the same way.
"Hey, Taylor." A hand lands on my shoulder and startles a squeak out of me. I spin on my heel, my hand over my heart. "Jesus H. Christ, Tim. Warn a girl before you scare the hell out of her."
Tim's cheeks redden, and his hand moves to the back of his neck as if to rub away the obvious nerves. "I called your name a few times. I guess you didn't hear me."
"Oh." Well, now I feel like an idiot. Maverick stole my full attention, even when he's all the way across the room. innocently ordering lunch. "Sorry, I was a little distracted."
"It's fine," Tim says lightly. "I know you said in our text messages that you’re fine after everything that happened... I just wanted to say hey and if you need anything, I’m here. Do you think you’re still up for drinks this Friday?"
Even before he speaks, I know Maverick stepped up behind me. Partly by the way poor Tim's eyes pop wide as saucers, but also because my nerves come alive. It's like my body senses when he’s near.
"No." The deep voice reverberates from behind me and damn if it doesn't send a lovely shiver through my me.
My body may want to throw itself on top of Maverick, preferably with fewer clothes on, but my senses somehow remain intact. I turn slowly, my gaze locks with his chest and slowly travels upward to his hardened hazel eyes.
"Maverick." When his eyes meet mine, I pause. They soften, not enough for anyone around us to notice, but I notice. My every intention was to yell at him for being a dumbass brute, but something stops me. The only thing I manage to say is his name, then I lock up. He doesn't want me going out because it's probably not the safest activity for me. He isn't intentionally being rude though he could use some classes on manners.
"Oh, hell." I groan, then drop my head back and let out a dramatic sigh. "Okay, so this is a friend of mine, Maverick." I step to the side and motion to Maverick while my attention goes to Tim, then switch off. "Maverick, this is Tim. We had a date set up a few weeks ago and . . . well, stuff happened. Anyway, we rescheduled for Friday."
"Hey, good to meet you." Tim's tone and standoffish body language make it clear he's anything but happy to meet Maverick and vice versa. Maverick doesn't reply to Tim; instead, he grunts some weird half-assed acknowledgment.
It isn't funny. The whole situation is weird and makes me uncomfortable. Yet all I can do is bite my lip to hold in the giggles desperately clawing their way up. Maybe I'm certifiable, and they need to lock me up. Maverick's eyes dart to me when a small hiccup escapes in my effort to hold back. He scans my face for a moment, a frown on his. He figures out my issue quickly, and his lips twitch. It nearly breaks me, but I refuse and suck in a steady breath instead.
"Tim, I'm really sorry. I have to cancel on you. It's just not the best time with everything going on in my life." He frowns, and I feel like a total shit. To anyone else, it may appear like I'm stringing him along, and it's the last thing I want to do. "You know about what happened before, but everything became even more complex than it was. So, I really have no idea when I'll have free time. This sounds like a total cop-out, but I promise it isn't. It's just really complicated."
Tim simply nods but gives no indications as to what he may think. "It's fine. Hopefully another time, then."
"Definitely another time," I say and instantly regret it.
Who the hell knows when I'll be able to make good on my word.
"Next."
The lady taking orders for my line calls out to me a little too loudly, and I use the excuse to slip away from Tim and Maverick without another word. It's not the nicest thing to do, but I had nothing more to say to either of them. All I want is my damn sandwich.
On our way back to my office, Maverick and I tightly hold our brown paper bags with our lunches inside. My treasured bottle of Diet Coke, and another for later, joined my sandwich in the bag. Maverick opted for hot coffee in one of the to-go cups the cafeteria offers.
"I'll scoot my computer to the side of my desk, so we can both eat there," I say as I open my office and let him in behind me before closing the door. I turn around to head to my desk and almost run into Maverick's back.
"Whoa." My free hand goes up on instinct to rest between his shoulder blades. The muscle under my hand is tight and strained. Maverick's entire body is stone still, and for a horrible minute, I wonder if someone else is in the office with us.
Finally, he spins around and pins me with a glare. "Do you have a boyfriend?"
I sputter, my eyes wide, and my brain short-circuiting for a second. "What the hell? No, I don't have a damn boyfriend. I told you this already, and if I did, do you think I'd be talking to Tim about going on a goddamn date with him or better yet, kissing you an hour ago? Do you really think I'm the kind of girl to screw around while in a committed relationship? Jesus, Maverick, what is wrong with you?"
"Who would send you those, then?" He steps out of the way and points a hard finger at a large bouquet of flowers in the center of my desk. A card sticks out from the center of the bouquet and the words FOR MY LOVE written on the front.
My stomach twists and drops to my feet. Something doesn’t seem right. With slow measured steps, I make my way to the desk and pluck the card from its plastic stick holder. Flipping it open, I read the note inside, and the air leaves my body in a rush. My hands shake too hard for me to keep hold of the card, and it floats to the floor.
Maverick is beside me in seconds, his hands on my shoulders as he shakes me to grab my attention. “Taylor? Talk to me, what’s wrong?”
All I can do is stare at him and shake my head. Words won’t form on my tongue. Every bone in my body screams at me to run and run fast. To find a place to hide where no one will ever find me. The problem with that is it puts my family in more danger, which is unacceptable.
Maverick must realize he won’t get anything from me right now. He lets my shoulders go and takes a knee in front of me. He picks up the note I dropped and reads it quickly. “Son of a bitch.”
He jumps to his feet, drops the note on the desk, then pulls his phone from his back pocket. He dials a number, puts the phone to his ear, and wraps his free arm around me, pulling me flush to his chest. My body vibrates against his as the shaking continues to get worse.
I hear the distinct click of someone answering on the other end of Maverick’s phone and a muffled voice. Maverick’s reply is short and clipped. “We need the three of you at Taylor’s work, now.” He hangs up the phone and stuffs it back into his pocket, then wraps me tight in both arms. He rests one hand on the small of my back and the other on the back of my head, securing me to him. “I’ve got you, sweet girl. I’ve got you.”
He rests his lips against the top of my head, breathing me in as he holds me while we wait for the guys to show up.
When Marak, Allistar, and Syn rush into my office about twenty minutes later, they find me and Maverick in the same position. Before anyone can say a word, Allistar pulls me from Maverick’s arms and holds me tightly. He runs his hands up and down my back, almost like he’s convincing himself I’m not physically hurt. “Are you okay, Taylor?”
My only answer is a shake of my head against his chest. Nothing about this is okay, and I’m not going to lie and say it is.
Allistar tightens his arms around me in one more hug before he turns me to face the others. He keeps one arm around my waist with my back to his front as if it’s totally normal to touch and hold me in front of the whole damn world. “What happened, Maverick?”
Maverick points to the flowers and the note on the desk. “Someone sent these to Taylor, the note was already touched by me and her so don’t pick it up. I set it face up for you three to see, though. We need to bag it and send it to the lab. Maybe the fucker slipped up, and we can get some prints.”
Syn and Marak lean over the desk to peer down at the note. The moment they finish reading the note is obvious. Both tense up, and Marak hangs his head and sucks in a few deep breaths while Syn lets out a string of curses under his breath.
Curiosity gets the better of Allistar and he finally releases his hold on me to check the note out for himself. “Christ. This guy is twisted. We’ve dealt with sick bastards before, but this guy makes the top ten.”
I know why they’re all upset. The note itself doesn’t contain only words. The picture attached to the note is horrible. It’s me next to the cop car on the night my window was shot out. In the picture, my eyes gaze down at the police officer in horror. The person who took the picture was obviously incredibly close to get such a detailed photograph. It’s easy to make out the cop in the picture as well, something I never wanted to see again.
The words of the note ring through my mind on an endless loop.
You did this to him. His children have no father, his wife has no husband, and it is all your fault, Taylor. How many others will you kill? All you must do is come to me, where you belong.
A muted sob escapes, and in an instant, Marak is in front of me. His hands cup my cheeks. “He’s wrong, Taylor. Don’t let this get to you, don’t let him have that power over you.” His thumb swipes away a traitorous tear. “None of this is your fault, and no one blames you for what happened.”
“One thing is clear, though,” Syn says, his brows drawn together. “This guy is willing to kill to get Taylor. We knew he could be violent, but now, we can officially add murder to his list of crimes. He all but admitted it.”
Allistar nods in agreement. “Maybe we should teach Taylor some self-defense.” He looks over to me. “Do you know how to fight at all?”
With a sniffle and a deep breath, I regain some of my composure. “Only what you guys have experienced.”
The four of them cringe in unison, probably recalling our initial meetings and the balls that got hurt in the process. It’s the easiest defense when a guy is after you. They’re not expecting it most of the time, and they always cry like little babies. Girls get kicked in the cooter or punched in the tit, and we don’t scream like someone set us on fire. Whoever said men were stronger was a damn liar and probably a man.
“Okay, yeah.” Syn coughs, his face still scrunched in memory of the pain. “We need to teach you how to actually defend yourself, not just taking a shot at the plums.”
“Plums?” I scoff and glance down at his crotch. “You mean grapes?”
While the others laugh, Syn shoots me a look that promises retribution.
Allistar shakes his head, then brings us back to the topic. “I’ll teach you some techniques for fighting, Taylor. We can start tonight.”
“Why only you?” I ask.
“Well, Maverick is too demanding and hardcore, Syn doesn’t have the patience, and Marak would be afraid of hurting you. None of them would do you any good trying to teach you anything like that. They’d just frustrate themselves and you. So that leaves me.” He pauses and quirks one eyebrow. “Unless you don’t want to work with me.”
“I don’t mind.” My tone says it doesn’t matter to me, but my mind screams pretty please, yes, and can you be shirtless in the process.
I am so far beyond messed up in the head. Already, I’ve straddled a mostly naked Syn, and if I’m being honest with myself, the amount of clothing between us was a bummer. I slept with Marak, and it was the most amazing experience ever. Then I kissed Maverick a few hours ago, and I never wanted to stop. Now the picture of Allistar all hot and sweaty from a workout won’t leave my mind. All of this while I’m being stalked by McCreepearson. I should wear a sign that reads, Sex-addicted, dirty-minded freak.
“Let’s get this shit to the lab and get out of here. We need to go over the surveillance videos in the building, see if we can find who put the flowers and the note here. Marak, get access to the videos. Syn, stop by the lab and drop this off. Allistar, get Taylor home. That’s the best place for her until we can verify if this guy is still in the building. I’ll ask around and see if anyone saw the person who made the delivery.” Maverick falls back into his leader role, and everyone jumps to work without question, even me. It makes me want to be a part of their group, not simply a job. These four men make my life one big, complicated, sexy pile of crazy, and I have no idea what to do about it.