Page 20 of Until the End

Her fingers twitched, but oddly not to bash him. That inconvenient tingle spread to parts of her that would definitely be interested in parts of him under different circumstances.

What in the Sam Hill was happening?

Stress must’ve done a number on her if she was distracted by the stirrings of something that should not be labeled. He was about to haul her into an undisclosed government facility, and she should be fighting tooth and nail.

She shook off her visceral reaction to him, not wanting to dwell on it. He was irritating enough without psychoanalyzing all this.

“I guarantee letting me carry you would be more fun. But suit yourself.”

Was that supposed to be a joke? There was no smile, no laugh lines, no warmth in his tone, and he didn’t strike her as a kid-around Joe, but how else to take it?

“I don’t see anything remotely humorous about this,” she said.

“I’m doing my best to put you at ease here. You don’t know me, but that’s saying a lot. And you’re right. There’s nothing funny about terrorists stealing Z-1984. I guarantee whatever they have planned for it will be horrifying.”

She swallowed hard. Her Outliers had colluded with terrorists. Anything she admitted now could be used against her in a court of law. Why hadn’t she fought harder to stop Jasper in the first place? Despite the team vote against her, who would believe she hadn’t been involved?

This was bad. Prison time kind of bad.

“And G-man is reserved for the FBI,” he said, “which I’m not.”

“G-man, company man, yes-man with a badge and a gun. Whatever. The point is I don’t need to be carried by my kidnapper, secret agent or otherwise.”

“What you do need is clarification, so I’ll make this crystal clear. Kidnapping is illegal. Bringing you in for questioning is within the scope of the law. And when you were having your little heart episode earlier, you most certainly needed to be carried by this field officer, who also happened to have saved your life.”

He took a step back, his long legs giving her plenty of space.

A chill raked her at the sudden loss of his body’s protection from the wind.

With his chin, he gestured let’s go.

She pivoted on her heel and strode to the giant gray box, head held high like an innocent person. Inwardly cringing, she still worked her bravest you-can’t-touch-this strut.

Inside the building, he swiped an ID card across one of two turnstiles located on either side of a metal detector and directed her to walk through the sensor. No alarm sounded.

The lobby was a wide space with dark polished concrete walls and floor. A curved ivory marble desk veined with bluish-gray and gold sat as an eye-catching centerpiece.

Castle spoke to the two guards behind the desk using lots of acronyms and jargon like POI and topside. The only bit she understood clearly was the guys behind the desk agreed to take care of Achilles, who apparently belonged to someone named Knox, until Janet was ready to take the dog home.

“Who are Knox and Janet?” she asked.

“Knox is our second-in-command. He’s been deployed forever. Janet, the boss’s assistant, is pet-sitting Achilles until he gets back.”

They passed the security desk, crossing the lobby under a second level balcony toward the elevator. No other exits. One way in. One way out.

The banana she ate for breakfast curdled in her stomach. “Who runs the show here?”

“The chief. One of a kind, old-guard. They don’t make them like him anymore.” The reverence in his voice made her skin prickle with unease. “You’ll meet him.” Castle’s menacing swagger conflicted with his casual tone. “Since you didn’t want to answer my questions, you’ll get to answer his.”

“Whoopee.” She waved her hands in mock excitement. “That sounds about as fun as an enema with a fire hose.” She pushed back the hood of her sweater, fluffed out her shoulder-length hair, and ran a hand along the shaved side patch on her head.

Castle gave her the side-eye. Unwelcomed awareness rippled through her. No hood, no makeup, nothing to hide behind.

Under normal circumstances, she prided herself on nonconformity and thumbed her nose at convention, but the people here were going to judge her based on her appearance, demeanor, and, most importantly, her answers. Maybe Castle was forming a new judgment about her now.

His sunglasses concealed his eyes, but the intensity of his gaze made her armpits sweat. She chewed the inside of her lip, wishing he’d stop staring.

“Edgy,” he finally said, giving a little nod.