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For Her Protection(59)

By:Amber A Bardan


“I really shouldn’t be telling you this… But I guess I’ve already put my neck on the line as far as you and Connor are concerned.” He rubbed his fingertips on the desk then sighed. “Connor believes you have nothing to do with it and his word is good as it gets to me, and that means you need help.”

Her thoughts clicked back into place and she blinked. “Is this about the report Connor took? You think there’s something happening at Halifax?”

Mark caught her gaze and he was once more all cop. “And that puts you right in the hot seat.”

Her heart flipped over in a dull double thud. She hadn’t considered she could be implicated in precisely what she’d been trying to uncover. “Then it sounds to me like we should be on the same team. I’ll give you my full cooperation. I could provide anything you need to make your case—voluntarily, no warrant or court order required—but we do this together.”

Their gazes held. She could see it in his face—the hesitation. Over her safety or his loyalty to Connor?

“Could be dangerous.”

Charlize rose to her feet and placed her fingers on his varnished desk. “So is doing nothing.”

He didn’t look away but a slow smile broke over his face. “Then I guess we’d better do something.”

Smart man knew when a girl wasn’t going to back down. If only Connor had been so wise, maybe they’d have had a chance.

* * * * *

A yellow envelope lay across her keyboard when she arrived at her desk. Bold lettering spelled out her name on the front. His writing—Connor’s. He wrote things by hand, didn’t print envelopes, didn’t email unless he had to. The kind of guy who’d pick up a phone and call before sending a text.

An old-fashioned guy.

Charlize pushed the package aside and sat down, opening her email instead. She stared at her inbox, looked at the first message but just couldn’t absorb the words. Her gaze kept flicking to that envelope. That sneaky little envelope, better left unopened.

What could it be anyway? An apology? More empty explanations that missed the point? He didn’t get it. She swallowed and slid it closer, ran her finger over the smooth black ink of her name. Maybe it was something else… Maybe it was regret, maybe he’d finally seen it’d never work. Perhaps she’d shown him how he’d be better off with someone else. Someone who could make him the center of her life. Who’d move into his sweet little home—fill it with a beautiful little family.

Her lungs closed and she turned the envelope over, tearing open the seal, then she tugged out the folded piece of paper inside.

Dear Charlize,

I fucked up. All I can say is wanting to keep you safe made me stupid. I do respect you—you have no idea how much I do. Your work is important but your safety just means more to me.

Here is the file I took and I’m giving you my own notes and observations about Halifax. I’m on your side, baby. I’ll always, always have your back.

Connor

Charlize peered inside the envelope then tipped it. The little white USB stick spilled out onto her desk. She bit her lip to keep her emotions from spewing out again. After months spent trying so hard to keep her shit together this was like digging her way out of dry sand. The more she scooped out, the more poured in.

She inserted the USB into her computer. He’d done what he said. The audit and pages of his own notes. So maybe he was starting to understand. Slowly. She pressed her knuckles to her lips. Somehow that idea made the situation worse. Now she had hope. Now she had maybes and what ifs.

Now she had doubts.

Doubts about her choices, about everything. Ironically, she’d found it easier to believe things with Conner couldn’t work. She rubbed her temples with two fingers, trying to find the quiet in her mind to think. Quiet never came, only the buzz of a never-ending stream of thoughts.

Connor had been right about one thing, her work was important and that’s what she needed to focus on now. Work was the only thing she had the strength to think about now. She printed the files and started reading. Her temples throbbed and she wished she’d had time for a coffee. She poured over pages, broke out the highlighters. She discovered a few things she hadn’t seen on balance sheets and the financial reports she’d been able to print from the system. Details of where things were going and what they were used for. More than budgets and expenses—real, meaningful data.

Some of her previously drawn conclusions grew more validated with each passing hour, while others sank into gaping holes—holes she intended to follow to their bottoms. Overall, she discovered that the direction she’d been toying with was the right one.