Total pages in book: 187
Estimated words: 174623 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 698(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 174623 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 698(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
"The guys want to see you in the conference room," he says.
I almost ask why, but it's likely he hasn't been told the reason.
"Got it," I say, waiting for the gate to slide open.
It feels more than a little personal when he heads back inside, the gate staying closed for a few seconds longer than necessary.
Once it's open, I drive in, maintaining a respectable speed even though I want to rev the engine in agitation.
Meetings are no big deal. We have them all the time. But it's becoming a regular thing for me to be called out to have conversations with the higher-ups.
I hate feeling on edge. It takes me back to a time in my life when I didn't feel like I had any control over what was going to happen over the course of the day.
I know a lot of that annoyance stems from my required time off from Juniper House, even though I can still see updates from those on shift.
I know the guys here are just as capable of keeping the women and staff safe, but there's that niggle of need to make sure Juliet is safe from her ex-husband that has managed to build inside me. It's been impossible to ignore.
I climb off my bike, carrying my helmet inside with me. The last time I left it outside, I found a spiderweb inside. There aren't many things other than evil humans that make my skin crawl, but seeing a creature's home and not finding the creature is also at the top of the list.
I don't head to my room to offload my helmet. There's no sense in putting off whatever conversation the guys want to have with me.
Only it isn't just Kincaid, Shadow, and Max in the room when I enter. In addition to Max, every original Cerberus member is in the room, every pair of eyes looking at me when I step inside.
I meet each pair before speaking, trying to gauge the situation, but honestly, this meeting could be about anything.
"Did something happen with Juliet?" I ask, locking my eyes on Max because he's the guy who knows everything that happens around here.
"Not in the way you think," Kincaid offers. "Have a seat."
As I pull out a chair, Dominic closes the conference room door.
"We wanted to talk to you about the research you've been doing," Kincaid says as he takes his seat at the head of the table.
"Due diligence," I mutter, feeling like a chastised child caught sneaking cookies after his parents went to bed.
"Understandable," Kincaid says. "I know I didn't mention it before, but Max can get you any information you want."
I look over at Max. His eyes are on his screen as if he might be feeling a little out of place to witness the dressing down of someone on the team.
"I don't mind," I say. "Gives me something to do."
Kincaid watches me, and the scrutiny of his eyes on me makes me wonder if he has all the other guys here because he's worried I'm going to lose my shit and go on a rampage.
"Max can explain why that's a bad idea better than I can," Kincaid says, turning to look at Max.
It takes Max a few seconds before he turns his attention to us, his hands working fast over the keyboard. If I didn't know how efficient he was, I'd think he was just typing random shit to look busy.
"I'm working on trying to find out if Graham Whitmore has hired an investigator and has one active, or if he has attempted to get one in the past," Max begins. "I have access to a lot of different databases, but it takes time to get into them without leaving a footprint."
"I don't mind helping if it takes too long for one person," I offer.
"Not leaving a footprint is the exact reason it's a bad idea for you to search on your private phone, tablet, or laptop."
"So you're spying on me?" I ask, just now realizing that's the only way they would know what I've researched.
I turn my attention back to Kincaid. "You went through my phone?"
Kincaid shakes his head before angling back to Max. "Listen."
Max gives me a small smile, but his finger is pointed at his computer.
"I have more than one notification app running for anything concerning Juliet, the Whitmores, and her family. I got a notification from my most basic notification system that someone had been doing research. It came from your phone," he explains.
"And before you think we spy on you guys, each of your phones has a unique IP address," Kincaid says.
"Well, sort of," Max clarifies. "They have the same IP address, just a different sub-number, but that's irrelevant. Nyx, if my basic app found you searching, then someone else can get that information too."
"I used an incognito window," I say, feeling like an asshole when I was just trying to help.