“Why can’t Kace show me this ‘something’?” I ask, claiming the spot across from him.
He proceeds to set photos of Gio in front of me. My heart skips a beat, and previous question forgotten, I reach for them. “What are these?”
“The photos you saw in Kace’s apartment. We pulled them from your security footage because Gio’s driver’s license photo is horrible.”
“He doesn’t have a driver’s license.”
He slides another photo in front of me. And it’s Gio’s driver’s license. Apparently, my brother’s been living La Vida Loca a lot longer than I knew.
“Obviously, I was wrong.” I glance up at Savage. “So you hacked my security feed? That’s extreme.”
“Kace was insistent he wanted a photo of present-day Gio and he expressed some concern that you might be in trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“He said that would be a topic for a later date. He had one goal for us. He wanted to see present-day Gio. He was nowhere to be found, which meant going back in time digitally. Which we did.” He points to the date and timestamp. “The photos are dated before you met Kace. We were not following Gio. And yes, we have the skills to doctor the date stamp, but the feed is still on your security backup to compare.”
I glance at the stamp and then him, focusing for now on what is most obvious. Kace wants my trust. He’s trying to prove he deserves it and that matters. “He didn’t have to send you here, but thank you for coming.”
He studies me a moment, his jaw set hard. “That was the last time Gio was seen here at your building.”
I dread the answer but ask anyway. “Do you know where he’s at?”
“No,” he says giving me the answer I did not want, “but,” he adds, “if anyone can find him, we can.”
Now I study him for a few beats, trying to read an impossible-to-read man. “What do you know?” It’s a generic question but all I dare.
“Very little. We knew he wasn’t around, but we simply bypassed that problem and got the job done. We weren’t aware he was missing because we weren’t looking for him, but rather his photo. Therefore, we haven’t had the chance to dig deeper. At least not until we were informed you wanted to meet to discuss finding him. And Kace wants your approval for us to move forward with that process.”
The chimes on the door sound and with the entrance to his back, Savage rotates to eye the visitor. I have a clear view myself as Alexander, in another of his expensive blue suits, steps inside, halting at the front desk. He must sense our attention, because his gaze shifts, flicks over Savage and settles heavily on me. “Just came by to check on you and chat a minute. Is it a bad time?”
“I’ll leave,” Savage says, pushing to his feet, and when I follow, he leans in closer, his voice low, for my ears only. “Choose your loyalty and do it quickly,” he warns, making it clear he knows how Kace feels about me and Alexander. I think Savage knows a whole lot more about a whole lot of things than I know right now. “Kace already has,” he adds, straightening. “If you want to continue this conversation, Kace tentatively set up breakfast tomorrow for us to do so with or without him. Let me know.” On that note, he heads for the door, but instead of leaving, he halts in front of Alexander and says, “Alexander,” making it clear he also knows Alexander. “Always looking so damn spiffy. Mr. Tall Dark and Pimping, my man.”
Alexander smirks. “Funny seeing you here, Savage.”
“No,” he says sharply. “It’s not funny at all. She’s not yours. Don’t forget that.” That’s all he says before he sidesteps Alexander and heads for the door.
I’m already at the front desk, and quickly call out, “Savage.”
He flicks me a look over his shoulder. “Yes?”
“I have chosen.”
He eyes Alexander’s back and then me. “We’ll see.” He exits the building, leaving me with the certainty that he’s about to call Kace and tell him I have company. And I just have to pray Kace really does trust me more than Savage does.
My attention slides to Alexander, to find his dark eyes watching me. “Savage doing security work for you?”
“Something like that,” I say, quickly walking around the desk, and placing a barrier between us. “Thanks for all you did yesterday.”
He steps to the opposite side of the counter, his stare probing. “How are you?”
“Remarkably well. I think the tetanus shot weighing down my arm has been the worst part of the day.”
“They suck,” he says, sounding surprisingly human. “I’m surprised you’re working.”
“Life goes on and I’m really fine. But really truly, thank you for yesterday.”
His eyes take on a predatory gleam. “You owe me a bottle of wine. One we drink together.”