Page 58 of Healing the Heart

“I could have waited until we got here,” Val informed the group with a smile. “I’m not a slave to caffeine, unlike someone I know.”

Deep chuckles filled the room. The others were aware of the master dom’s coffee addiction, apparently. The not-so-subtly referenced addict didn’t find her funny, however. There was only one seat left. Eric took it and pulled his sassy wife into his lap.

“Sit here and behave,” he muttered as he raised a Starbucks cup, what looked like a twenty-ounce venti, to his lips.

Val leaned back against him and replied softly, for his ears alone. An apology, or a promise to be good, no doubt. Whatever the case, her composed face said she was no longer teasing him, but the gleam in her blue eyes gave away her amusement as she glanced around the room. They stopped on Fiona, shifted to Noah who had his arm draped possessively across the back of her chair, and her smile returned. When the all-too-perceptiveblonde glanced her way again, it broadened to a grin as she greeted her with a small finger wave.

“Can we begin?” Noah asked impatiently.

Fiona didn’t blame him. She was eager to hear what they’d learned that required a meeting already.

“Yes. Now that everyone is here,” Keiran replied. Fiona was going with that name for him, since that’s what Noah most often called him. “Trey is going to give us a rundown.”

The man behind the laptop got to his feet. Using a remote, he activated a screen that dropped out of the ceiling. The technology was impressive, but she was more blown away by who the man was. He was the third at the table that night in the bar.

With a tiny elbow nudge, she whispered to Noah, “Who is that?”

“Trey Griffin, our tech guru and resident computer whiz,” Noah informed her, speaking low in her ear. “He’s also responsible for most of our background checks at the club. It was Griff who gave the go-ahead for Jordan’s membership. That he might have missed something has him pretty torn up.”

“He was at your table in the bar.”

“Yeah. He was witness to the insults that started this whole shitstorm swirling, which is another reason he has a vested interest in your case.”

Trey clicked the remote, punched a few keys on his laptop, and Jordan’s picture appeared on the screen. It was enough to make her skin crawl. She wasn’t alone in her dislike for the man; unhappy grumbling filled the room.

“What a tool,” one man muttered.

“I knew he was trouble the second I laid eyes on him,” someone else chimed in.

“I want to know how he passed security.” This came from Tristan.

Trey bristled visibly. “I screened Jordan and was wondering about that myself. So I went back and took a second look—”

“More like a ninth or tenth look,” Keiran remarked.

“He’s not wrong,” Noah whispered, his words meant only for her. “Griff can become obsessed with his work.”

She had co-workers like him. People who lived to work rather than the other way around. But she got caught up on Trey being Griff. Now, she had another nickname to keep up with.

“Fiona, do you recognize this next man?”

And, just like that, she had the undivided attention of everyone in the room. It wasn’t something she enjoyed—ever—and she blushed furiously.

Noah’s arm moved from the back of her chair, settling around her shoulders. She found the solid weight comforting and leaned in to his side. Despite the inopportune timing, her body reacted to his closeness, and the fresh fragrance of his body wash, the same one she had used earlier that morning. She rather liked the idea of his scent lingering on her.

“Look at the screen, Fi,” he directed, after everyone but her had focused on the projected image. “Can you identify this guy?”

Feeling like a silly, lovesick fool, she told herself to get it together and lifted her gaze. She sucked in a breath, seeing a familiar face. She’d never forget how he stared at her, or the mole on his cheek, or the blood dripping from the blade. “That’s the guy with the knife from the parking garage.”

“His name is Jaden Mercado,” Griff continued. “He’s in custody downtown and, according to Brent Owens, won’t stop talking. He’s given up Jordan as the man who hired him and the victim, Matias Sola, to vandalize your car.”

“Oh my god!” Fiona exclaimed in a burst of outrage. “What did I ever do except sit at a bar breathing the same air as him?”

“Sociopaths don’t need a reason for their actions,” Val interjected. “They have little to no conscience and lack empathy.My guess is you remind him of someone who has wronged him in the past. Perhaps they’ve moved or are deceased and beyond his reach, so he turned his sights on you.”

Trey swiveled in his chair and stared at Val.

“Is there a problem, Griff?” her husband asked.

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