Page 32 of Rescuing Erin

Last night when she’d asked me to make love to her, I’d gotten her off using my fingers and mouth again. Much to my cock’s dismay, I still hadn’t allowed her to touch me. At first, it was because I didn’t want to take advantage of her vulnerability. Now, it was because I wanted more. I had to know if it was me she wanted or if I was simply convenient. It would gut me if the only reason she wanted to be with me was because of some sort of hero worship. Not that I was a hero, but she did view me as the man that was keeping her alive.

She’d mentioned more than once, how she’d rather die than be kidnapped. I understood her fear, however, it killed me the choice was even on her radar. She should be out living her life, smiling, happy, carefree, and not thinking about lose-lose options.

“Ready?” I asked, sitting next to Erin on the couch.

“Yes,” she answered in the affirmative, but her shaky voice told me she was anything but.

I answered the phone, but before Zane could start I asked him to wait and muted the phone.

“You don’t have to do this,” I told her.

“Yes, I do.”

“You don’t. But more than that, you don’t have to pretend with me. I know you’re scared. And, sunshine, that’s okay. I hate watching you worry, but I really hate that you think you have to hide from me.”

“I just want to get this over with.”

“All right.”

Knowing I wasn’t going to get Erin to open up while I had Zane on hold and the images she needed to look at loomed over her head, I gave in.

“I’m back,” I told Zane.

“You logged in?”

“I am.”

Once I confirmed my computer was online and on Z Corps network, a picture of Erin and a man came onto the screen of my laptop.

“Do you know this man, Erin?” Zane asked.

“Yeah. That’s Hal Simpson. He’s a donor. I believe he’s an investment banker.”

“How long have you known him?”

Erin sat quietly for a moment, twisting her hands in her lap. Her knee was shaking, and her discomfort came off in waves.

“Um, I’d say, about a year. Maybe a little less. I’m trying to remember what event I first met him at, but there have been so many it’s hard to say.”

“Has he ever expressed interest in you?”

My irritation spiked at Zane’s inquiry, I didn’t like where this line of questioning was going.

“In me personally? I don’t think so. And if he was interested, he never did anything weird if that’s what you’re asking.”

“That’s exactly what I’m asking. Did he ever ask you out? Try and get you alone? Say or do something that made you uncomfortable? Ask too many questions about your dad?”

“No. He never asked me out. But now that you mention my dad, he never asked anything about him. Strange.”

“Why is that strange?” I asked.

“Because everyone always asks. And I mean, everyone. Some are more invasive than others. But since he’s become president there hasn’t been a single person, other than Liv, that hasn’t asked me something about him.”

I could believe that. People were inherently nosey. They wouldn’t be able to help themselves, they’d have to ask her something about her dad, even if it was small.

“It’s actually not so strange.” Garrett entered the conversation. The screen in front of us changed to a side-by-side picture. The right side was a professional portrait of Hal Simpson and the left was a cropped image of him from the charity event. “Hal Simpson is Henry Shultz, the man who is behind surveilling your apartment and the man who hired the men to kidnap you.”

Erin’s entire being shifted from unease to utter terror. I was happy the team couldn’t see us, not that I gave a fuck. I pulled Erin onto my lap. Fucking Garrett had to bring up the fact someone wanted to take her—her biggest fear.