Page 7 of React

Should have stuck to club hopping around the globe, bitch. I’d been hoping for a challenge in catching you, stringing you up and slicing into you slowly until I could finally cut you open to see if you're just as hollow on the inside as you seem. Oh well, I guess I’ll just have to skip the chase and get right down to carving up the body you seem to care so much for. See you soon, Lake.

Time halted along with the air in my lungs as I stared at the letters, organized into such ugly words. All sound had been muted save the blood rushing in my ears, my pulse hard and wet sounding as it broke up the pounding blood deafening me to anything beyond me and this moment. I was used to being called names, called fat, called a whore, a slut, a narcissistic bitch. Those were easy to ignore in their venom because they were just words. Insults hurled like spaghetti at a wall. Toss all the insults to see what could stick. But nothing had. Because nothing had been like this. The words I’d received were not taunts and insults, they were promises of action against me. Something I hadn’t seen anywhere up until now.

I could feel myself stepping away from this moment, not physically but mentally, my body shutting down all non-essential functions. Like the ability to hear the pounding on the door, see the splintering of wood as the door crashed in and lodged into the wall behind it. I couldn’t feel hands framing my face as my body continued to disconnect.

I’d just started to feel myself floating away from my body when the bubble of silence began to shrink and I was shaken by the face back into the nightmare my brain was attempting to escape.

“Breathe, Lake!” The harsh command was like breaking the surface after almost drowning. The bubble popped and sensation slammed back into me as my lungs finally expanded and I gulped in air.

Vision finally returning, I found myself staring into those hazel eyes filled with so much intensity that I was almost struck dumb again. But with my returning senses, I wasn’t sure I felt much safer with this man. Mullins wasn’t shaking as he held my face firmly in his grip, but there was a vibration of dangerous energy rolling off him in waves, his eyes flashing with something that put the incident in the elevator to shame. It was the darkness swimming in his penetrating stare that had me flinching. And it was the flinch that had his hands falling away from my face as he held them up slightly in surrender, taking a large step back.

By the time his eyes met mine again, the darkness was gone from his hazel depths, replaced with deadly calm and slick professionalism that probably made him good at his job. Not wanting to focus on the blank face of the stranger before me, I turned toward the door to my room where the frame was cracked and the doorknob was sinking so far into the wall that it looked damn near wedged.

“You broke my door.” The words sounded distant and hollow, as if I’d heard them in a memory instead of saying them myself just then. The tone wasn’t angry or upset, just matter-of-fact. No more than a distant musing. I didn’t even feel rage or sadness at the moment. It was an odd numb sensation that had enveloped me in a way that left me feeling more an actor playing a role in my life instead of it belonging to me. Somewhere in my mind a voice was faint but calm as it reminded me that this wasn’t the first time I’d experienced this feeling. But identifying it in my past was impossible while still so detached from the situation.

“Kasey told me about the text; you weren’t answering the door. We’ll have it replaced before you get back from the Hamptons.” His words sounded clipped and professional as if he’d thought I would fight him and had to make his position completely clear without room for argument.

“‘Kay.” I was still staring at the door trying to figure out why I was so far from my body at the moment. Was this what people meant by an out of body experience? Wasn’t that when they were about to die? Shit, didn’t that message mean someone intended to kill me? That counted, right? I lifted a hand numbly to my throat, thumb tracing the trail Mullins had taken earlier, trying to see if I could feel my body. It was almost like dream walking even though I was vaguely aware of the contact from my hand to my throat. It was muted though. Nothing that felt real. Nothing felt as real as the awareness that I was the target of someone who wanted to physically destroy my body for a reason I didn’t even know. What could anyone do with that limited information? Drifting away from it all seemed like a saving grace at that point.

__

DECKER

Ihung up with Cabot after triple checking that he had everything under control for the security on the Harrington’s home in the Hamptons. They’d had a decent security system for average people in the suburbs, but Cabot had hated that it wasn’t much more than some door sensors and a keypad. We needed eyes, ears, and lights everywhere. So while Fitz and I got Lake ready, Cabot made sure the house had been overhauled by my men, working with the speed of a NASCAR pit crew, efficient as the military men they’d all been. I didn’t particularly care that the sprawling estate would resemble a prison yard by the time we reached it, not if it meant keeping threats out and one rich spoiled brat in.

I tried to shake off my annoyance with her, unable to comprehend why she of all people got under my skin and itched until I couldn’t help but react to her. I wasn’t a man with reactions on a job. Not ones of an emotional sort, anyway. The fact that Lake Harrington sank into me and pulled such reactions made her top the list of most irritating jobs I’d been saddled with since starting this company. She annoyed me more than the teen pop star who had decided to down every bit of alcohol from the limo and proceed to throw up all over the front of me when I’d attempted to help her out of the car.

Yeah that entire suit was promptly thrown away, and she’d rocketed to my least favorite, though she still attempted to hire me personally for her events now that she’d turned 18, something she was constantly reminding me of when she reached out. Even if I cared so little that I fucked clients, she wasn’t anything near what I’d want to throw away my reputation for. So I’d politely explained I did limited field work and passed the job onto any of the men working for my company for as long as they could manage before I had to switch to someone who wasn’t sick of her bullshit. All in a day’s work.

My phone was vibrating in my hand, pulling me from the spiral of irritation. Kasey was calling instead of texting which was never a good thing. He’d been back at the office and was in charge of all things technical. But Kasey hated to call when it was easier for him to type his comments out into the world and leave them to be answered whenever someone had time. Calls were the emergency.

“What’s wrong?” I asked by way of greeting. I was still working my calm professionalism back into place when his tone gave me pause. Not a hint of his usual humor in his voice.

“Lake just got a text from our not-so-favorite serial threat. It wasn’t as bad as the letters but still sick shit. Definite torture vibes from the guy. No cams in the apartment as you said but I did tap into the audio of her phone… Deck, I can’t even hear breathing.”

Fuck!

My feet were moving before I even registered that I needed to get to her. I was already down the hall and yanking at the locked door I’d heard her stomping around in only minutes before. I could feel urgency rising as I tried the push at the door all while pounding against the barrier between me and the woman who could be-

“Lake, open the door, it’s Mullins. Decker Mullins. You gotta open the door for me.”

Nothing.

“Anything?” My question was directed at the phone that was still connected to Kasey.

“No man, I can hear you screaming like a fucking banshee but not even a gasp from inside.”

I didn’t even stop to think, I stepped back, pulled my right leg back and slammed the heel of my foot as close to the lock as possible. Since it was a bedroom door and not an outside door with a deadbolt, the wood from the frame splintered and the room was open to me. Instantly I took in the room around me for threats, the only person there was Lake, standing near her bed, a slight tremble the only movement from her as she stood with her back to me. Rounding her in a few quick strides, I could see no signs of injury, but her face was turning from a reddish tint to damn near purple and I realized she was holding her breath.

“Ms. Harrington, are you alright?” She still didn’t respond, almost like she didn’t even register me in the room with her. Gently, I pulled the phone from her frozen hand and tucked it away, only realizing that Kasey was yelling into my own phone where I’d dropped it before kicking in the door. Looking at the now decidedly blue-faced woman in front of me, I cursed. She was going to pass out. “Ms Harrington, please breathe.” Nothing. I grabbed her face in my hands, demanding her attention and said as clearly as possible, “breathe, Lake!!”

She gasped harder than a drowning victim as she gulped air back into her lungs on command. But she still wasn’t right. Something about the dull, empty look in her eyes was unsettling. She wasn’t looking at me, she was looking through me, lost in another place entirely. I’d let her go and she’d only managed to mention the door with no dry or angry tone, before she started petting at her neck that seemed like a clear sign she was not in control of herself. It was this odd behavior that had me rushing back to my phone and ordering Kasey to get Fitz to the condo immediately. I couldn’t deal with the mental unraveling of this woman in the way that my friend could. I didn’t need to add to her already fracturing mind.

“On it,” Kasey said before disconnecting. No demanding answers, or asking why he was getting another member of their team instead of a “real” doctor as he liked to put it to piss Fitz off. There was a reason this misfit band of idiots, including myself, made a great team. It wasn’t just our military past, but also the fact that they knew when to get shit done without question. Following orders had been drilled into them, and it was also the reason every man working for Remington Security had a military background.

Lake was still absently looking around and stroking up and down her throat when Fitzpatrick O’Rourke came rushing down the hall nearly passing the door to the room before he stopped in the doorway and cursed under his breath, taking in the woman who looked like she’d lost her damn mind. “She looks nearly catatonic,” he grumbled, coming to stand in front of her.

“She’s not,” Lake replied, glancing at him for a moment before letting her eyes wander. “She’s just trying to understand why it all feels fake. Distant.”