Page 118 of Nothing to Fear

The young woman thrust the gift bag into her hands. Peeking inside to the chocolates and grapes, there were a couple of other boxes in there too.

Nessa’s shift finished earlier, she must’ve gone out shopping before returning with her wares.

“This might be an overstep.”

What the hell would she do if someone recognized her and said something? How far did discretion go? Damn, what if Benedict was there? Would he feel obliged to receive thembecause she was part of the gang? The man was too busy to field visitors.

“Nonsense,” Celeste said. “He’s our teammate. It would be rude not to send him our best.”

“Can’t we mail a card?”

If she volunteered to do it, she could save herself the cost of a stamp and give it to him in person. She hadn’t spoken to him all day, she missed him. It was crazy, but her worry eclipsed every other emotion. Customers suffered for her distraction. Maybe she should take him up on that time off. Nursemaid would be a role she’d happily adopt, if he agreed to be compliant. Though she was one to talk, from their kissing the previous night before his brothers showed up, they may not be the most trustworthy together.

The cab stopped. Wait. They were there?

The driver must’ve been paid because there they were piling out onto the sidewalk in front of the building her guy had been attacked behind. Oh, it made her sick. Someone hurt him. Took advantage and—why would anyone do that?

Yvette snatched her hand. “Come on.”

Celeste and Nessa were already inside, by the time they caught up, the other two were holding open the elevator.

Shit.

Okay.

The top button lit and they ascended way faster than they should’ve. Okay, maybe not than they should’ve but she wasn’t ready. Ready. Could she get ready for—

The doors opened to a bustling bullpen. Not exactly what she expected. Maybe they didn’t get all the way to the top, or—glass rooms around the far perimeter were definitely offices. Shit, there was Ward, and Troy. What were they doing there? Why wouldn’t they be? God, this was a disaster already—

“Miss Mayden?”

Her head turned before her eyes followed. And there was Schmidt standing with security at the access turnstiles. Were they turnstiles? Glass access doors, there but… not there.

“We came to give Mr. Breckenridge our best,” Celeste said.

Nessa raised the liquor bottle again.

“Okay,” Schmidt said.

The other three security guys looked to him for direction. And, of course, he was staring at her. Oh, this wasn’t going well.

“If you could pass these things along,” she said, raising the bag, trying her best to tell him not to recognize her.

He had. Obviously, he had.

Damn, what was she supposed to—

The elevator behind them opened again, this time Ferguson joined them.

Oh, fuck. He’d know better but—

“Yes, we will…” Schmidt’s voice diverted her attention back to the—

In the corner of her eye, a side door opened. Those glass walls were opaque and the rabble of men who emerged—no. Mouth open, she couldn’t breathe because there was no way. Laughing, his head came around. The moment their eyes locked, his amusement died.

Oh, anger had never been so—

“Darroch!” Nessa exclaimed. “Wow, you look so good. We didn’t think—”

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