Rook Security Complete Series

by Camilla Blake

Atlas laughed. “I’d never do that either.”

  At that, Sequence just raised his eyebrows expectantly, his chin dropping down in disbelief at his brother’s astonishingly selective memory.

  “What’s that look for? Who did I try to steal from you?”

  “Katie Gillespie.”

  “Ohhhhh. Riiiiiiiiight. Katie Gillespie. Yeah, she was hot.” Atlas held up his beer for a cheers with such a ridiculous expression on his face that Sequence couldn’t help but chuckle and clink his glass with Atlas’s.

  “Yeah. She was.”

  “And for the record,” Atlas said. “I didn’t intentionally try to steal her from you. She just thought I was you.”

  “Sometimes it blows my mind that people can’t tell us apart.” Sequence supposed that was the plight of twins everywhere. To feel like a complete individual in every respect, but to have the world treat you like you were one half of a whole.

  “I think it’s easier these days. Now that you’ve gone all military.” Atlas gestured at Sequence’s tight blonde fade and his scrupulously trimmed beard.

  “Military? Please, just because I’m not choosing to look like…” Sequence surveyed his brother, trying to think of an appropriately scathing insult. “Tom Hanks in Castaway.”

  Atlas winced, but he laughed nonetheless, scraping his hand over his admittedly wild beard and hair that was much longer than he usually kept it. “Hey, I’m just trying something new.”

  “And women respond to this look?”

  “Not all of them, but the ones who do… Let me tell you, I’ve had some wild nights lately.”

  “Mazel.”

  Sequence’s smart watch buzzed and so did Atlas’s. Immediately, the live feed of Naomi’s security cameras were patched through, the way they were every night.

  Swift was back at the bunker and on-call right now, so unless something went terribly wrong, there was no reason for them to pay too much attention to the video feed.

  But still, Sequence watched like a hawk as Naomi bit her lip while she plugged in her security code, yawning widely and showing every one of her pearly whites. Sequence squinted as his eyes caught on the snaggletooth he’d never noticed before she’d pointed it out.

  Atlas watched Sequence, his surprise growing with every second. He’d known his brother had the hots for Naomi. But what he saw crossing Sequence’s face was different than that. It was… genuine interest.

  Sequence watched Naomi’s mouth form words that he couldn’t hear over the noise of the bar, then she flashed a grin at the camera and was gone from view. The feed cut out.

  “Sorry. What did you say?” Sequence asked, looking up at Atlas and blinking back into the here and now.

  Atlas’s eyebrows rose. “I didn’t say anything.”

  “Oh.”

  “But I’m about to go say something to that little honey who’s giving me the eye at the end of the bar.”

  Atlas paused after his words, though, and Sequence knew it was because if he asked, his brother wouldn’t leave him alone at the bar. He’d forego the hookup opportunity and sit at the bar all night with him.

  Sequence tipped his beer at his twin. “Go with god, brother.”

  “See you tomorrow. Your beer’s on me.”

  Atlas clapped Sequence’s shoulder and made his way down the bar.

  Sequence finished his beer and motioned the pretty bartender over. She blushed even more talking to Sequence than she did to Atlas.

  “Here.” Sequence handed her a crisp hundred dollar bill. “For my brother’s drinks tonight.”

  Sequence wasn’t a good wingman in so many ways. But in the ways he could be good, he made sure he was.

  He figured that Atlas was just about the only person who’d figured that out about him.

  He made his way out of the bar and his phone buzzed in his pocket. A text from Swift in the form of a voice memo.

  Just so you know, Naomi said goodnight to you.

  What? Sequence voice memoed back as he jogged up the stairs to his apartment.

  Just now. When she entered her apartment. She must have thought you were on call. She plugged in the code, flashed a big old smile and was all, ‘Night, Sequence’.

  Sequence let himself into his dark apartment and frowned. He wasn’t sure what to say to that.

  Okay.

  There was a few minute’s pause before Swift memoed back.

  Just five more days, dude.

  Jesus. Did the entire team know?

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The night before the big meeting Naomi was summoned once again to the bunker. She took a cab after work and made her way up to the tech room where she’d worked with Sequence.

  To her chagrin, it was empty.

  Naomi stood in the room and did a slow circle, taking it in. No one had told her explicitly that this was Sequence’s office. But she knew it in her gut. There was something about it that was just so him.

  The scent first of all. It was a warm scent, slightly coppery and slightly powdery. She’d noticed that he always smelled so freaking fresh. It was like life didn’t wear on him the way it wore on everyone else. Even the times he’d smelled like sweat, it was fresh. Not the damp, sour scent that one so often smelled on the subway. No. He was like fresh sheets and a copper statue warmed in the sun.

  She could get high off that scent.

  But there were other tells that this was his personal office. The bits and pieces of tech dismantled on the far table had his signature all over them. They were obviously taken apart in a very systematic way. Not a way that made sense to Naomi exactly, but each piece of tech was dismantled and laid out like a schematic. She could imagine that he could put it all back together without even having to google it.

  And on the far wall were a series of screens of all shapes and sizes. She wondered if it was on one of them that he viewed the live feed of her security cameras. There was only one night so far that he hadn’t greeted her when she’d come home. Every other night he was there, saying goodnight to her.

  “Hey, sis.”

  Naomi jolted and laughed at her own jumpiness when she turned and greeted Geo who leaned in the doorway, crunching on an apple. “Hi.”

  “Whatcha doing up here?”

  “Oh. I just assumed that I was supposed to meet everybody here.”

  “In Sequence’s office?” Geo looked confused.

  “Well, it’s pretty much the only room I’ve ever been in. Besides the kitchen.”

  “Right. Our bad. We’re meeting in the main conference room. Come on, I’ll show you.”

  Geo and Naomi strode through the bunker. Naomi had just enough time to admire Geo’s grace and poise. She looked utterly self-possessed. As if she’d been born into that specific skin life after life. Naomi felt like a parrot next to a slinky Siberian tiger. But, in a good way. Naomi liked what she had to work with. She was colorful and cute and original.

  She couldn’t wait until she worked on her own and she could really do her own thing. She could wear whatever she wanted to meet her clients, she could speak with them however she saw fit. She could decide who she brought on and which projects. She couldn’t wait to be rid of Ellsworth, even if she was still grateful that he’d given her her first job. And a leg up in the industry.

  He may have been generous then, but he was still the guy who kept sending her to Bastone because he was too chicken-shit to go himself.

  All she had to do was get through this one meeting, successfully break up with Bastone, and then she was home free. Off the leash and fancy-free.

  Geo brought her through a set of swinging doors and there, suddenly, was the rest of the team. They all sat around a big conference table with Rook at the head of it.

  They were four of the nicest men she’d ever met in her life, but jeez, they were all so damn broad-shouldered. It was a large room, but it shrank about ten sizes with these giants sitting around the table, stretching the legal limits of their button-downs and wearing their size thirteen oxfords.
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  “Gulp,” Naomi said. They all looked so serious and so prepared.

  She obviously knew that Bastone was a threat to her. That’s why she’d enlisted the help of this group in the first place. But there was something about seeing them all assembled, and Geo too as she slid past Naomi and into her seat. They were all looking at her. Somber, prepared, and ready to make sure that she was ready.

  Naomi wasn’t sure she was ready.

  Her eyes automatically searched out Sequence’s and she saw that he was staring right back at her. Not like the rest of them though. As her eyes met his, he went from watching her to communicating with her. His eyes were telling her something. But she wasn’t sure she knew him well enough yet to really understand what it was.

  Ah hell. Who cared if she got the message right? She chose to imagine that he was speaking calmly to her. She pictured Sequence as a ranch hand. Cowboy hat and chaps and a slow palm over the neck of a nervous filly. She supposed that in this ridiculous fantasy of hers, she was the horse.

  She took a long breath and realized that she hadn’t looked away yet from Sequence and maybe this was getting weird.

  “How are you feeling, Naomi?” Rook asked as she took the empty seat between Rook and Swift.

  “Feeling?” Naomi frowned for a second before she burst out into an undeniable grin. Crooked pearly teeth and all. “Um, scared as shit?”

  The group laughed and the tension in the room cracked. There were some clients for whom they needed to remain strictly professional. It made those clients skittish for the team to act goofy or relaxed. Those clients needed their team to keep up the facade of personal security robots who ate, slept, and breathed bodyguarding.

  Naomi, as they all knew by now, was not one of those clients. She needed levity. She needed real people guarding her. More than anything, she needed allies.

  “I’m sensing that all the pomp and circumstance of having a personal security team has made you even more nervous?” Rook asked her.

  “Yes. I think so. It’s kind of like all this time I’ve been going into a room with a tiger in it. But the room was really dark, so I didn’t really know how big or mean the tiger was. But now…”

  “We turned all the lights on in the room?” Atlas guessed.

  “Exactly,” she nodded. “I know I have to do it, but I’m just a little worried.” She paused for a second. “But if I really think about it, I know how to handle him. He’s made me nervous before, but I’ve always been able to sort of… manage him.”

  In a very rare show of discomfort, Sequence shifted in his chair. He’d been doing an extra twenty minutes of yoga every day this week, but still, his bad shoulder was tightening up watching how nervous Naomi was. She was doing her total hummingbird thing again. All colorful and vibrating with energy. For a moment he imagined her swimming in a tropical lagoon, her hair floating around her in an ethereal halo. He wanted her utterly relaxed and safe. He wanted her a million miles away from Bastone.

  But she was right. She had to get through this thing tomorrow. If she just up and disappeared, there was always the chance that Bastone would try to find her. If she really made a good exit, warning him that she wasn’t going to be in his life anymore, there was a much better chance he would just accept it. Besides. She had to see this through or risk Ellsworth’s wrath on her reputation.

  Personally, Sequence wouldn’t have minded just strong-arming Ellsworth into keeping his damn trap shut. But no. They were doing this Rook’s way.

  “Well, that’s always a good thing to remember, Naomi.” Rook slid an iPad over to her. “But most importantly, you are not alone tomorrow. Let’s get into the plan.”

  ***

  “Naomi?”

  “Hi, Mom.”

  “What are you calling so late for?”

  “Mom, it’s 8:45 at night.”

  There was a blank silence on each end of the line as if both women felt that Naomi’s words had just proved their own point. “Is everything all right?” Naomi’s mother said at length.

  “Yup!” Naomi said so brightly she nearly burst her own eardrum. Jeez, she needed to take it down a notch before she popped a blood vessel. Her mother, however, didn’t sense anything amiss.

  “I took Roger and Beverly to the vet today. You’ll never believe what happened.”

  Roger and Beverly were her mother’s cats and generally, Naomi could always believe what happened with them. What her mother considered the height of feline hijinks, Naomi considered normal cat stuff.

  But this was what she’d called her mother for. To be calmed down. And her mother wasn’t a soothing, sweet, supportive mother. Nope. Her mother was a nervous, paranoid cat lady. So Naomi sat back and let her mother lull her into a stupor with Roger and Beverly stories.

  Twenty minutes later, Naomi hung up, feeling marginally better about the meeting she had the next day. But not for long.

  Pretty soon she was pacing like a wild animal in the hallway outside her bedroom. She eyed her bed like it was a hyena that might bite if she got too close.

  Just going with her gut, Naomi marched through her house, jammies and all, yanked back all the locks on her front door, and marched outside into her hallway. Ten seconds later, she put in the code for her front door and then stood back in her house blinking at the blank black keypad that, at this point, always reminded her of Sequence.

  She started to input the keycode as she stared at the open eye of the camera that watched her. Halfway through the keycode she paused.

  “Um. Sequence?” she asked the camera.

  There was a long pause and then, “Yes, Fancy.”

  She couldn’t have held back her smile if it had paid her a million bucks to keep it under wraps. “Are you there?” she asked unnecessarily. He was obviously there, but she wasn’t quite sure how to get into the conversation she wanted to have.

  “Finish inputting your code before the cops come.”

  “Right.” She quickly did so and then couldn’t help but lean her forehead against the keypad.

  “You’re nervous, I guess.” His voice was a deep rumble and it actually vibrated the keypad on its way out.

  For some reason, that calmed Naomi. It made her feel like she could touch him in a way. Which, she never really had. Sure, they’d brushed up against one another inevitably while working on the surveillance equipment. But they’d never really touched. Not on purpose.

  She lifted her head and pressed her palm against the keypad, wanting him to talk again.

  “Obviously,” she told him. “It doesn’t help that tomorrow is also my last day of work for Ellsworth. That alone would make me sleepless. But add a meeting with a mob boss? Jeez Louise.”

  “It might help matters if you actually got into bed.”

  “Are you nuts? If I get into bed, I’m just going to toss and turn for a million hours and then have nightmares when I finally fall asleep. Better just to stand in the hallway in my jammies until the sun rises.”

  “Those are your jammies?”

  She looked down at the Yankees t-shirt she wore. “So?”

  “You would be a Yankees fan.”

  “What’re you, a Mets fan?”

  The look on her face had a low chuckle coming through the keypad and Naomi shifted her palm over the device, as if she could close a fist around his laugh. Hold it close when she needed it.

  “Nah. I’m from Iowa. I’m a Royals fan. Closest we had to a team.”

  “Iowa?” Naomi said the word like she’d never heard it before. Like she was testing the taste of it in her mouth. “Huh. Didn’t have you pegged for a Midwesterner.”

  “That’s because Midwesterners are usually nice.”

  She laughed now. Loud and happy. All teeth and flashing blue eyes. “You’re nice. In a… prickly sort of way.”

  He was quiet, but she could tell he was smiling. She could always tell when he was smiling.

  “I thought you were happy to be leaving Ellsworth’s,” Sequence eventually said.
/>   “I am. But I’m also freaked out about it. I’ve been interning there since I was fourteen. He’s not the greatest guy in the world. Obviously a bit of a coward. But he was there for me and my mom when my dad was… when he died.” She was sure that the security team, in all their infinite preparation and research, had learned about her father’s murder. But she didn’t want to talk about that right now. It felt like bad karma to bring up a gem deal gone-wrong the night before her big meeting with Bastone. “It’ll be a whole new chapter for me. It’s gonna take some getting used to.”

  “You seem ready for it.”

  “Do I?”

  “Hell yeah,” he told her. And there was something in his voice that had her believing him. He wasn’t the kind of person to blow smoke up anyone’s ass. If he was saying it, he was believing it.

  “Hmm,” she made a little thoughtful noise and bounced on the toes of her feet.

  “You’re shorter tonight.”

  “What? Am not!” The wrinkle between her brows appeared. Then her face broke into a laugh. “Oh. I know why. It’s because you’re always seeing me in my heels on my way home from work. But I’m barefoot now.”

  “Barefoot.” He repeated her word, but Naomi got the strangest feeling that he wasn’t talking to her at all. He was repeating it just for himself. She imagined him imagining her bare feet. Now that she thought about it, he was always telling her to take her shoes off. Maybe he had a thing for feet? Maybe he was one of those guys getting boners watching ladies trying on heels in a DSW?

  Yeah. Fatigue was making her brain think some truly crazy things.

  “Barefoot or not, you can’t stand in the hallway all night. You have to get in bed at some point.”

  Naomi lit up her phone and frowned at the time. It was ten. “Why are you at the bunker so late? Are you on-call?”

  “I’m not.”

  “On-call?”

  “Or at the bunker.”

  She frowned. “If you’re not at the bunker, then how and why are you talking to me through my keypad?”

  There was a long pause before he answered, as if he didn’t really want to tell her the reason why. Then, finally, “Rook is on-call tonight. He always falls on the sword the night before a big job. But I’m the one talking to you because I’ve been patching your security feed through to my phone.”