Page 38 of The Fixer
“Then why did we leave in the first place?”
Jake stifled his frustration. “Because you refused protection unless we went to your family’s place, and then the closest place we had to that was the one in Canada. I promise you, no one gets in or out without clearance. The safe rooms here and at Baker Street are among the most secure in the world.”
“And yet, we keep running,” she snapped. “Forgive me if I don’t have blind faith in your so-called security.”
Jake didn’t flinch at her words. He understood her frustration, her outrage. She’d been thrust into a world she didn’t understand, forced to trust people she barely knew. But that didn’t mean he’d let her question the one place he was certain could keep her safe.
“Look,” he said, his voice softer now, “I get it. This isn’t what you signed up for. But the fact is, this place has kept people alive through worse than what we’re facing. It’s not about the club—it’s about the infrastructure.”
Lyndsey threw up her hands. “Fine. Whatever. Let’s just get this over with.”
Jake grinned despite himself. Her fire was one of the things he admired about her, even if it made his job harder. He gestured toward the door leading to the stairwell. “This way.”
From the rooftop, they entered Cerberus Headquarters. As sleek, secure and efficient as they were, Jake knew they were in safe hands. The halls were lined with security cameras, and every door required multiple levels of clearance to open. But as they descended to the safe rooms above the club, he could sense Lyndsey’s nervousness growing.
When they reached the floor where the main office and the safe rooms were, Jake led her to the larger of the two suites,swiped his keycard and held the door open for her. “Welcome to your temporary home.”
Lyndsey stepped inside and froze. Her gaze swept over the room, taking in the plush bed with its wrought-iron frame, the soft lighting, and the polished wood furnishings. But it wasn’t the decor that had her staring—it was the distinctly BDSM elements scattered throughout. A padded bench sat in one corner, and an elegant restraint system was subtly integrated into the headboard.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she muttered, her voice flat.
Jake leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed as he watched her. “What’s the problem?”
Lyndsey whirled on him, her eyes blazing. “The problem is that this is not a safe house. It’s a… a dungeon with a bed!”
Jake chuckled, unable to help himself. “It’s a room above a club, Lyndsey. One that happens to cater to a specific clientele. And no, it’s not a dungeon. It’s secure, comfortable, and equipped with everything you need.”
Her glare could have cut through steel. “Do you even hear yourself? You’re acting like this is normal!”
“For me, and most of the members of Cerberus, it is,” Jake replied, his tone casual. “And for the people who use this space, it’s normal, too. What matters is that you’ll be safe here.”
Lyndsey huffed, pacing the room. “Safe and mortified, apparently.”
Jake stepped closer, his amusement softening into something more serious. “Lyndsey,” he said quietly, “I wouldn’t have agreed to bring you here if I thought there was any risk. I know it’s not what you’re used to, but it’s the best option we’ve got right now. Better handcuffs and floggers than bullets and grenades.”
She stopped pacing, her shoulders slumping slightly as she turned to face him. “You might have a point, but I just… I feellike I’m losing control of everything. My work, my life, where I sleep. It’s all being decided for me.”
Jake heard and felt the vulnerability in her voice. He stepped closer, his hand resting lightly on her arm. “I get it. But you’re not alone in this. I’m here to make sure you get through it in one piece.”
Her gaze softened, and the energy between them shifted. “You’re really not going to let me win an argument, are you?”
Jake smiled, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “Not when it comes to your safety, no.”
Lyndsey let out a reluctant laugh, shaking her head. “Fine. But I’m not using that… bench.”
Jake laughed outright, the sound deep and warm. “Not unless you want to.”
“I won’t.”
As the tension eased, Jake found himself watching her more closely. The way her hair fell over her shoulder, the fire in her eyes—she was unlike anyone he’d ever met. And as much as he hated to admit it, she was getting under his skin in a way that no one else ever had. She might hate the idea of what she thought the lifestyle was, but he was pretty sure if she allowed herself to explore, she might find something beneficial.
Whatever came next, he knew one thing for certain: keeping her safe wasn’t just a job anymore. It was personal.
Later, after Lyndsey had had time to settle in and King had debriefed him and Reyna, he sat at a small dining table nestled in a niche by a bulletproof window. The scent of grilled chicken and roasted vegetables filled the room, but Jake barely noticed. His focus remained on Lyndsey as she sat across from him, herbrows furrowed in concentration. The small table in the safe room felt too intimate for the importance of their conversation, but it was the safest place to talk.
Jake set his fork down, leaning back in his chair. “If we’re going to take down Lang, we need leverage. Something big enough to disrupt his entire operation.”
Lyndsey nodded, her fork idly pushing around the vegetables on her plate. “The problem is, everything we have is circumstantial. I can’t find anything that ties him directly to the auction or the conspiracy.”