Page 32 of Beautiful Unity
Eleven
DARCIE
I wiped the sleep from my eyes and took another gulp of the shitty coffee. It didn’t help erase the tiredness I felt deep in my bones, but I kept drinking it anyway. The past forty-eight hours had been an emotional dumping ground, and I was ready to set this dumpster on fire. I checked the time, and a nervous flutter took flight. There was no turning back now.
“Having second thoughts?” Hank asked, sliding into the booth.
“Nope. I have confidence in my men. It’s yours I’m questioning.”
My dad scowled, and a twinge of guilt bubbled in my gut at my words. But it didn’t make what I said any less accurate.
After Maddox had received a text from Becca’s handler asking to talk, we’d learned the safe haven had been compromised. Hank insisted the network hadn’t been infiltrated despite the contradictory evidence. So, while Waylon, Brooks, and Grayson ran through the MCD program, Maddox and I were dealing with Becca’s whereabouts.
He’d left to meet with the man assigned to her while I combed through the server for any leaks. The last time I spent this much time with a computer, I’d worn much less clothing and had gotten paid.
This was less fun.
“It would go much faster if you allowed me to help.”
I gritted my teeth. It wasn’t the first time he’d offered. And he wasn’t wrong. He knew the server, code, and players better than anyone. But... I didn’t know how to trust him with this. If he dropped the ball again, an innocent girl would suffer.
My reservations decreased with each minute I spent staring at the screen, especially if I had to keep drinking this coffee. Out of habit, I took another sip and winced at the burnt flavor.
“Here.” My dad pushed over a thermos, lifting his eyebrows in a silent dare.
Sighing, I took it and set aside the cup I’d been nursing. I had my pride, but it only went so far. Refusing good coffee wasn’t something I would sacrifice.
“Thanks.” I unscrewed the lid and inhaled the rich, dark aroma with a hint of hazelnut and vanilla. Picking up a clean mug, I poured some before screwing on the lid. The second it hit my tongue, I felt brighter and alert. The power of good coffee.
“Have you heard from Maddox?”
“He made it to the meeting location. I haven’t heard how it went yet.”
“Hmm.”
“What?” I met my dad’s eyes for the first time since he’d sat down. He looked the same as the other night, but some of the spark in his eyes had returned. I hoped it meant he believed in me to tackle Agonizer, but I wasn’t going to hold my breath.
“It’s nice seeing you like this.” He smiled, fondness in his gaze. I bit back my retort and took another sip of coffee. He sighed, and I watched as he opened and closed his mouth, his face changing completely as he stared over my shoulder.
“Well, well, boys. It’s Hank the Tank. I didn’t think he had the balls to show his face around here.”
My body stiffened, and my heart rate picked up at the edge in the voice that boomed across the diner. I glanced out the window and recognized the patch on the jacket. Two men stood outside smoking, leaning against their bikes. I immediately closed the laptop, placed it in my bag, and scooted from the corner to the edge of the booth. My dad gave a subtle shake of his head. His eyes had stayed forward, tracking the threat, so I took it to mean to stay put. I’d take his lead for now, but if it came down between trusting him or myself, I’d bet on myself every damn day.
Sadness that I no longer saw my father as my hero engulfed the panic, and my heart slowed enough to keep my hands from shaking when I reached out for my cup of coffee. I drank the rest and unscrewed the thermos. I’d toss it on the asshole if I needed to. It would be a waste of good coffee, but I’d sacrifice it for a head start.
Keeping my head down, I watched the boots stop in front of our booth. It was time to test the strength of my disguise and see if my dad had the allies he believed. He’d suggested this place due to its free Wi-Fi and being off the beaten path. He knew the owner and said they wouldn’t ask questions if I sat in a booth for hours as long as I ordered every couple of hours.
I’d been here for eight hours already, and that had been true so far. No one had spared me a second glance, and outside the shitty coffee, the place had been perfect. It was not the place I wanted to make my re-emergence known, though.
“You think a lot about my balls, Tommy?”
I held in my snort. I got my sarcasm honest.
“What? No?” the man sputtered, and I hid my smile. Now would not be the time to gain the notice of this asshole.
The owner of the dusty boots grunted and slammed his hands on the table. The cups rattled, and the shitty coffee sloshed onto the table. Still, I kept my eyes down and breathed through my nose. I felt eyes roam over me, the hair on my neck standing at attention, but as quickly as they’d run over me, they stopped. Thank-fucking-God for small mercies. I owed Grayson a blow job for my disguise.
“You don’t get to talk to me like that anymore, Hank.” I didn’t need to see this man’s face to know he was scowling. The derision in his voice and the spit that hit the table said it all.