anger. She didn’t ask for or want protection from the new recruit. Heck, she didn’t want it from even the most seasoned of agents. If the head of Orion couldn’t even protect herself... Her anger quickly turned to embarrassment. She’d frozen when she should have fought. If Jackson hadn’t shown up... Then all Nikki could feel was gratitude and admiration for the man standing in a puddle of spilled red wine.
And then she felt anger again.
“I’m going to call the cops and then we’re going to talk about what the word privacy means,” she said. If Jackson felt underappreciated or shortchanged, he didn’t show it. Instead he nodded, as if resigned to her future wrath.
Nikki turned and finally left the bathroom.
They’d both pretended not to hear how much her voice broke as she spoke. Or the way her legs still shook as she walked away.
* * *
W HILE N IKKI WENT to her bedroom and changed, Jackson went and stood guard in the living room with his eye on the front door and the open bathroom. He knew the man was dead in the tub, but he still didn’t want his back to him. Not when Nikki was still in the apartment. It was an irrational response, he knew, but he also couldn’t shake it.
Jackson remembered seeing the busted lock on the door—how no one else on the floor had heard him break it off the wood, he didn’t know—and running inside without pause. He’d heard the man speak and then seen him holding Nikki up like a rag doll. He’d also taken in the red across the floor, the fact that Nikki was naked and wet, and the bat discarded near them all within the space of a heartbeat before he’d attacked.
The fear and simultaneous anger that had washed over him had been surprising. But not as much as the nearly overwhelming feeling of protectiveness.
Nikki might have been his boss, but that couldn’t account for such a strong response from a relative stranger. Or could it?
“Not the night you expected, huh?”
Nikki smoothly slid next to him, gaze on the broken front door. She’d changed her towel for a pair of jeans and a flannel button-up. Her hair was twisted up in a wet bun and the mascara that had started to streak her cheeks was wiped clean. If he hadn’t witnessed the attack, he wouldn’t have guessed anything out of the ordinary had happened to the redhead at all.
“To be honest, I’d expected to be bored all night,” he answered.
“Sorry to disappoint.”
Jackson glanced over.
“So you have no idea who that is?” he asked again, just as he had through her bedroom door after she first went in to exchange her towel for her clothes. She shook her head.
“I’ve never seen him before,” she reconfirmed.
“But he spoke to you.”
She nodded but kept her eyes on the door. “He was sent here to hurt me.” Her tone was even, scarily calm.
Jackson didn’t know if her lack of emotion was due to shock or if she was hiding how she really felt. Either way his hands fisted at his sides.
“Andrew Miller,” he said. “Do you think he sent him?”
Nikki didn’t answer and they lapsed into a moment of silence.
It was answer enough for him.
“Do me a favor and refrain from telling anyone at Orion about this,” she said after the quiet had stretched for a while.
Jackson turned to her, ready to argue, but for the first time since they’d been in the bathroom, she met his stare with her own hazel eyes. They were darker than he thought was normal, the brown around the pupil rich, but the green and yellow around it wild and entrancing. He nearly forgot what they were talking about until she added, “The guys would leave the Averys, and I don’t want that yet.”
“But what if that’s exactly what Andrew, or whoever is behind this, wants?” Jackson pointed out. “Knowing you’d send your best away, leaving you open for this.” He motioned to the bathroom.
Nikki’s face pinched. He could tell she’d already had the thought, though she didn’t have time for a rebuttal.
And then she felt anger again.
“I’m going to call the cops and then we’re going to talk about what the word privacy means,” she said. If Jackson felt underappreciated or shortchanged, he didn’t show it. Instead he nodded, as if resigned to her future wrath.
Nikki turned and finally left the bathroom.
They’d both pretended not to hear how much her voice broke as she spoke. Or the way her legs still shook as she walked away.
* * *
W HILE N IKKI WENT to her bedroom and changed, Jackson went and stood guard in the living room with his eye on the front door and the open bathroom. He knew the man was dead in the tub, but he still didn’t want his back to him. Not when Nikki was still in the apartment. It was an irrational response, he knew, but he also couldn’t shake it.
Jackson remembered seeing the busted lock on the door—how no one else on the floor had heard him break it off the wood, he didn’t know—and running inside without pause. He’d heard the man speak and then seen him holding Nikki up like a rag doll. He’d also taken in the red across the floor, the fact that Nikki was naked and wet, and the bat discarded near them all within the space of a heartbeat before he’d attacked.
The fear and simultaneous anger that had washed over him had been surprising. But not as much as the nearly overwhelming feeling of protectiveness.
Nikki might have been his boss, but that couldn’t account for such a strong response from a relative stranger. Or could it?
“Not the night you expected, huh?”
Nikki smoothly slid next to him, gaze on the broken front door. She’d changed her towel for a pair of jeans and a flannel button-up. Her hair was twisted up in a wet bun and the mascara that had started to streak her cheeks was wiped clean. If he hadn’t witnessed the attack, he wouldn’t have guessed anything out of the ordinary had happened to the redhead at all.
“To be honest, I’d expected to be bored all night,” he answered.
“Sorry to disappoint.”
Jackson glanced over.
“So you have no idea who that is?” he asked again, just as he had through her bedroom door after she first went in to exchange her towel for her clothes. She shook her head.
“I’ve never seen him before,” she reconfirmed.
“But he spoke to you.”
She nodded but kept her eyes on the door. “He was sent here to hurt me.” Her tone was even, scarily calm.
Jackson didn’t know if her lack of emotion was due to shock or if she was hiding how she really felt. Either way his hands fisted at his sides.
“Andrew Miller,” he said. “Do you think he sent him?”
Nikki didn’t answer and they lapsed into a moment of silence.
It was answer enough for him.
“Do me a favor and refrain from telling anyone at Orion about this,” she said after the quiet had stretched for a while.
Jackson turned to her, ready to argue, but for the first time since they’d been in the bathroom, she met his stare with her own hazel eyes. They were darker than he thought was normal, the brown around the pupil rich, but the green and yellow around it wild and entrancing. He nearly forgot what they were talking about until she added, “The guys would leave the Averys, and I don’t want that yet.”
“But what if that’s exactly what Andrew, or whoever is behind this, wants?” Jackson pointed out. “Knowing you’d send your best away, leaving you open for this.” He motioned to the bathroom.
Nikki’s face pinched. He could tell she’d already had the thought, though she didn’t have time for a rebuttal.
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