Page 23 of Twisted Devotion

Next, we backtrack to the office next to his, and Jackson opens the door to a dark room with a wall of security screens. There has to be a dozen of them with different angles of the property, both inside and outside. The scale of security makes my stomach swirl with unease, though the coffee probably isn’t helping, either.

When Jax and I are alone, it’s easy to forget just how critical this job can be. So far, he’s made it light and even entertaining at times. It allows me to push aside the knowledge of how dangerous my position here is, but I can’t do that. Not here.

Jackson introduces me to Dex, Leigh, and Eva—members of his security team that work primarily here at the facility.

“These guys have been with me forever. We grew up together causing trouble, so it’s only natural they’re here to keep me out of it now.”

Dex snickers at that.

I’m again reminded how odd it is that Jax’s file made no mention of a social life. Sure, walking around in public has its risks, but he seems too outgoing not to have friends. Though, the more people I meet here, the more I understand. Jackson does have friends, people he trusts; only, they work for him.

“They rotate the perimeter shift,” Jax goes on to explain, nodding at the one with brassy brown hair. “Leigh is the one you saw outside earlier.”

Leigh spins around in his chair and waves.

I smile and shake everyone’s hand before we step back into the hallway.

“You doing okay?” Jackson asks after closing the door to the security room.

Pressing my lips together, I nod.

“It’s a lot,” he offers.

“Yeah,” I finally say. “It’s fine. I’ll adjust.” At least that’s something I’ve always been good at. I’m a bit overwhelmed now, but give me another day or so, and I’ll adapt just fine. So long as I can get everyone’s names straight. “What time is your meeting?”

Jackson glances at his watch and purses his lips. “We’ve still got twenty minutes. Do you want to continue the tour, or take a break and we can pick it back up after lunch?”

We’ve made it through the office space, which leaves the meeting rooms and treatment rooms left.

“I could use a breather, if you don’t mind.”

He shakes his head. “Let’s pop into my office. I have to grab my notes for the meeting, anyway.”

Turns out, meetings about project management for a project you’re not involved in are super boring. I spend the better half of an hour staring out the window, watching the flurries fall from the sky and stick to the grass outside.

Jackson is on a conference call with the guy who’s designing the new facility. They’re going over room requirements and dimensions, and I’m trying my hardest to stay awake. No one ever said this assignment would be interestingallthe time.

I take a few minutes to flip through the emails on my phone, refreshing my inbox and even checking my spam folder to see if there’s any word from Seth. My stomach sinks when it comes back empty. I should be used to it by now, but I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to missing my best friend.

After lunch, Jackson and I finish our tour of the facility. He shows me where he meets with clients: the two rooms closest to reception with a table and four chairs in each. They’re carpeted where the rest of the facility is hardwood; or, in the case of the two procedure rooms, sterile white tile. These rooms are windowless and the same taupe as every other room in this place.

The procedure rooms look like something out of a hospital drama. There’s a bed on wheels in the middle of both rooms, and metal cabinets lining the far wall of either room. The only difference between the rooms is that one has a viewing gallery above it. Otherwise, everything is uniform and fits with the clean, simple style of the place as a whole. Based on Jackson’s meeting this morning, it will be interesting to see what the new facility looks like and how it will differ from this one.

You won’t be around to see it, I remind myself.

Jackson ends the tour back at his office and tells me he’s ready to head home for the day.

On the way out of the facility, Bethany stops us and hands me a keycard.

“Welcome to the team,” she says with a friendly smile. “Trust me, the rest of us are a million times cooler than Jax. Sorry you’re stuck with him after hours.”

Jackson sucks in a breath from beside me, slapping a hand against his chest, over his heart. “Bethany, you wound me.”

“As if,” she retorts, throwing her hair over her shoulder. “He’ll try to have you thinking we’re mean to him.” She grins at me. “Don’t let him convince you.”

I laugh. “Yeah, right. That’s not likely to happen.”

“I don’t understand what’s happening here,” Jackson mutters, shaking his head.

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