Hannah.
I felt like I was going to be sick.
“Tristan. I’m coming down. But I have to wait until security is there,” he said. “Otherwise, it’ll just be a shitstorm.”
“Okay,” I said, but it really wasn’t okay at all.
Ten minutes later, there was a sharp rap on the glass door of the store, and I sped down the stairs to see two enormous men standing on the other side of the glass, all in black. They had a logo on their shirts, and as I got closer, I could see it was a shield with a name written across it.
The black-haired one had a badge pushed to the glass, and I quickly read his name and the Waterton business logo again before I turned off the alarm and unlocked the door. He squeezed in while the other man remained outside, turning so his back was to me, arms crossed, stance wide.
A stance I recognized. Soldier. Military.
My heart was flipping over and over, making me dizzy.
“I’mPrabhjot.” He stuck out his hand, and I shook it.
“Thanks for coming,” I said.
He waved his hand at the alarm. “Is this your only alarm?”
I nodded.
“We’re going to need access to it and the company you’re using. Can you call them? We’ll do a full assessment and let you and Mr. O’Neil know what changes we recommend be made.” He spoke in a calm voice that was far from how I felt. I was a jitter of nerves.
“It’s not hooked up to any company. It’s just an alarm,” I told him. We’d never needed it. “I think your boss probably installed it a decade ago.”
He brushed a hand through his hair and muttered something I didn’t catch because I was distracted by a storm of voices shouting outside the store. Prabhjot went back to the glass door. Soon, he was unlocking it to allow Brady and another muscled man to slip in. This man was as dark and intimidating as his counterparts.
The door closed, and Brady rushed over to me, pulling me into his arms while cameras began flashing through the glass. He turned me away from them so his back was to the windows and pushed me gently toward the stairs.
When we reached the top, the sound of Hannah’s voice and the piano keys hit me again. Sweet. Joyful. God, this was awful. She didn’t need this. I didn’t need this.
Brady pulled me to him again.
“It’s going to be okay,” he said into my hair.
I pushed away from him, wrapping my arms around my middle. “How can you even say that?”
“It’ll die down,” he said, flicking his leather bands. “But for now, I have a team going to your house, and we’ll have someone here whenever you’re here.”
“Brady…they were screaming at me. At Hannah,” I said, eyes getting watery.
He stilled, eyes drifting toward the practice room and then back to me. “I’m so sorry,” his voice was strangled. “I didn’t think.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “Shit, I’m so sorry. Was she upset?”
I shook my head. “She just wanted to know why they were asking questions about you.”
He looked pained. “Itwilldie down, but it’ll also get worse before it does.”
“I don’t want her picture all over the media,” I said in a half-whisper.
“I’ve got Lee working on it, and he’s calling Dani. I know she’ll help out until we have someone on board. I’m hoping to have someone hired and up and running by the end of the week.”
I stilled. Dani. Which meant Nash would know after I’d pretty much blown it off the night before. I was surprised my phone wasn’t already roaring with texts and calls from him. What would I say? What could I say?
I sank onto the futon, and Brady joined me.
“If we stop seeing each other, it’ll go away sooner,” he said calmly, as if he was trying to not care, but I still heard the hurt and hope and longing twisted in his words. He was offering me a way out, but even as he did so, the spin of awareness was flitting between us like fireflies, calling us back together.
