Page 34 of The Hangman's Rope

“Temporary measure,” the man he’d called Reck, said. “Don’t y’all look cozy?” he remarked and it held more questions than accusations or whatever.

Curiosity…I thought to myself. It held more curiosity than any sort of malice or unease. Like he’d never seen Hangman do such a thing before.

“Lorelai,” Hangman drawled, “This is Requiem, he’s responsible for club security.”

“Hi,” I said faintly.

“Nice to meet you,” Requiem said, and he looked me up and down, again with more curiosity than anything.

“I don’t like it,” Hangman said and Requiem was the sole subject of his attention, now.

“Look, call Syn. I think he’s trying to split the fuckin’ difference with you here – it’s either that or?—”

“Fine,” Hangman bit out but he didn’t look happy about it.

I tried not to shrink too much in my seat as my mind finished what Requiem had finished with all manner of potentially rough and icky things –the cryptechoing off the inside of my skull more than anything else.

Hangman pinned me with a look, and I felt my tense posture ease. The expression on his handsome face clear – I didn’t have to worry about a thing. Not while he was sitting here.

“Cool, I’m going to get to work inside, do me a favor man – make me something to eat. I’m fuckin’ starving and that shit looks good.”

Hangman cracked a smile then and said, “As soon as we’re finished eating,” he agreed.

“Thanks,” Requiem let himself into the apartment up here and disappeared around the brick fireplace and wall around to the hallway where the bedroom and bathroom resided.

“What’s he doing?” I asked.

“Installing cameras and a security system,” Hangman answered. “It’s what he does. He owns and operates a security firm. Installing state-of-the-art systems, specializing in asset protection and sometimes personal protection.”

“Oh, wow,” I said faintly.

“It’s good money,” he said taking a bite. We were both almost through with our plates.

“So, he’s installing cameras to what? Keep an eye on me while you’re gone tonight?”

“Yup,” he answered around his mouthful of food.

I fixed my gaze on nothing at all, shuddering slightly in my seat.

“Better than a babysitter, or locking you up,” he said.

“But you don’t want cameras?”

“Fuck no, too much like big brother is watching for my tastes, I like to be left alone.”

“I’m sorry,” I said quietly after a few moments.

He shook his head, “It’s nothing on you, Sweetpea. Syn and the rest have major trust issues. It’s a whole thing – they just want to make sure the club is protected.”

“Why would I say or do anything?” I asked mollified.

“Trust, like Rome, isn’t built in a day – or even two,” he said patiently. “Just relax, and let me handle it, right?”

I blinked at him, “So, you won’t trust me after a day or two but I’m supposed to trust all of you?” I asked.

“Ouch,” he said with a gusty sigh. “Touché, you got me there.”

I frowned, “I think I’m angry,” I said. “Not because you all insist on treating me like a child or – or – or a criminal or something; but the hypocrisy of it all.”

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