She clenched her hands into fists. “You don’t know him.”
“Neither do you if you thought he was just a nice man with enemies.”
She deserved his sarcasm. “I’m afraid, Chase. I need your help.”
“Why my help? Why not the police?”
She swallowed. She’d thought about going to the police, but what could they do? It was her word against Grigori’s—and they weren’t going to arrest him because he’d threatened her. Not to mention she had technically stolen his property when she’d fled his apartment.
“You’re a soldier. An elite soldier. You do counterterrorism work—”
His brows lowered and he looked pissed.
She hurried on. “That’s what Tyler said. He told me you could protect me.”
And God, she hoped it was true. Because if Chase turned her down, what would she do?
He swore, long and hard. She wasn’t encouraged by the look on his face.
“I’m not a fucking bodyguard, Sophie. Tyler is wrong. You need the police for this, not me. I can’t help you.”
3
Chase couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so pissed. He didn’t give Tyler Nash much thought these days, and he certainly never thought of Sophie. He knew she’d gotten advantages in life because of Tyler’s influence, and that used to piss him off. Now he couldn’t care less.
But knowing that Tyler had called his mom and gotten his address? Knowing that his mom had told Tyler—because who else would have?—that he worked in top secret stuff and could help? Was the man ever done taking advantage of Carrie Daniels?
Sophie was looking at him with wide eyes, her cheeks flushed though her skin was pale. He could see her pulse beating in her throat, that soft fluttering like a hummingbird’s wings. He felt a rush of sympathy for her and immediately stomped it back down.
What kind of dumb twit got involved with Grigori Androv? Even if Sophie didn’t have the advantage of working for HOT, which maintained a dossier on Androv and knew precisely how he’d built his fortune—it wasn’t in software but rather in the ugly world of organized crime and petty arms dealing—the Russian had been in the news recently for an alleged assault of a hotel maid.
The details were ugly and brutal—and the maid was being systematically taken apart in the court of public opinion by Androv’s spin doctors.
“If you don’t help me, I’ll be dead by the end of the week,” she said. “Maybe sooner.”
Yeah, he was pissed at the idea of Androv threatening her, but if the man hadn’t eliminated the hotel maid by now, he wasn’t going to kill Sophie. “He’s not going to hurt you. He’s smarter than that. He has too many other interests to protect, and you’re nothing to him in the scheme of things. You wounded his pride. Nothing more.”
She didn’t look relieved. If anything, she looked even more desperate. “I took s-something from his office. A flash drive. He’ll have realized it by now—and he’ll want it back. He’ll stop at nothing to get it.”
Interest sparked deep inside even though he told himself it was probably bullshit. “Do you know what’s on it?”
“No. But I never saw him without it. It’s important to him.”
“It could be anything. Or nothing. Lots of people use flash drives. It doesn’t mean anything. It could be pictures of his vacation—or dirty pictures he gets off on.”
“But what if it does mean something? What if there’s information he doesn’t want made public?”
She looked hopeful. And, damn, he had to admit he was hooked. She’d thrown him the fucking bait and she was reeling him in bit by bit. She tumbled on before he could speak.
“He told me he doesn’t trust the cloud with what’s on it—and I know that’s crazy because he makes a living selling antivirus software, so presumably he should have the best firewall protection there is. But it’s true. He told me he doesn’t trust the cloud and that it was better if his enemies didn’t get this information.”
Chase could only gape at her. “Why would he tell you this? And how did you get ahold of it if it’s so important to him?”
“He was using his laptop in his limo when we were going somewhere once, and he inserted a flash drive. I asked why he didn’t just use the cloud. He told me he didn’t trust it. As for how I got it… it was on his desk with his papers. When the butler interrupted, he left me in his office. I grabbed it and ran.”
Chase’s senses were tingling now. He held out a hand. “Better hand it over and let me have a look.”