Shifting his weight to his good leg, he glanced at the door, then back at her, with a furrowed brow. “You’ll stay here?”
“Yes.” She held her wrist out and sighed impatiently. “Would you like to cuff me to the desk to make sure I don’t run?”
He touched her wrist, lingering over her racing pulse. “That won’t be necessary.” He started for the door and glanced over his shoulder. “They’d stop you before you hit the door anyway.”
“A bunch of rental security dudes?” She rolled her eyes and scrolled down the page. This code was so simple it hurt her to study it. “I think I could take them.”
Scoffing, he shook his head. “This company consists of military men who have been trained to take down targets without blinking. I wouldn’t be so sure of that.”
He shut the door behind him, and she was alone.
She watched through the interior window as he walked to the closest desk. He said something and gestured toward her, and a brown-haired man turned her way. Though he was a good distance away, she could make out the fact that he had deep brown eyes, was extremely muscular, and had tattoos all up his arms.
He screamed military.
As a matter of fact, a quick scan of the agency building showed a bunch of former service members. They all held themselves in the same way. Tall and strong, and they carried themselves with pride.
Turning her attention back to the computer, she studied the simple code. Within seconds, she found the spot where he’d gone wrong. Tapping her fingers on the desk, she glanced over her shoulder. After opening an internet browser, the first thing that popped up was a picture of her at her parent’s funeral. She wore all black and had her head lowered from view. She’d been crying, of course.
He’d been researching her. Her heart wrenched, and she closed the page. She didn’t need to be reminded of all she lost. Didn’t need to remember that day. After going broke in a Ponzi scheme, her parents had managed to pull their lives together. Their love for each other had never died. Not until a drunken senator had crashed into them, killing them both instantly.
The senator had gotten off on a legal technicality. More than likely, he’d greased a few palms to escape scot-free. He was the reason she did what she did. He was the reason she refused to help Jake. She wouldn’t protect men like him, who took what they wanted and walked away. Wouldn’t help them do more wrong in a world full of wrongs.
Wouldn’t be one of them.
She might not be able to bring Senator Forkes to justice, but she could help others get justice. And stealing from men like him felt good. They deserved it, each and every one. She double-checked and triple-checked all her facts before she entered their homes, no matter what Jake thought of her. She never stole from the good guys.
But he didn’t believe her.
He thought she hadn’t changed.
Opening a new page, she peeked out the glass window to make sure Jake wasn’t coming back yet. He wasn’t. Her fingers flew over the keyboard as she worked. She scrambled for his phone number, but easily discovered it in his contact file. Heck, she found his email address, too. He had a few photos of himself on the laptop.
It was like taking candy from a baby…
No sooner had she hit the confirm button than Jake reappeared outside his office, stopping to chat with the same brown-haired guy he’d spoken to earlier. He carried two mugs of steaming coffee. As she watched Jake, he turned her way and stared. He had a weird look on his face. Crap, he knew she was full of shit.
And now she was going to go to jail.
Chapter Nine
Jake watched Tara through the window in his office. Her fingers moved over the keyboard constantly, and she smirked as she worked. She looked every inch the unpredictable troublemaker she was. This morning, she’d been a little restrained. Quiet.
It was nice to see her looking more alive…even if she was more than likely causing one form of mischief or another.
“She’s up to no good in there,” Gordon said. “You can see it.”
Jake tightened his grip on the mugs. “She always is.”
Gordon laughed. The man was built like a fucking beast and practically lived in the gym, but he’d always been quick to laugh and chat. Jake didn’t really know a whole lot about him, history-wise, but he knew the usual. He’d fought in Iraq. Come home with PTSD. Gotten out. No wife. No kids. No one at all besides himself.
They were all kind of like that at Shillings.
“Need any help with her?” Gordon asked, focused on Tara. “I could use a distraction right around now.”
Jake tensed. No way in hell he was letting Gordon anywhere near Tara. The man had a way of walking up to a woman, saying two words, and next thing you knew? She’d have her panties on the floor within seconds. “Nah, I’m good.”