Page 26 of Lock ’N’ Load

“That’s what I figured.” He nodded. “Has anyone been following you lately?”

“No.” At least, not that she knew of.

“Any crank calls?”

“No.” She rarely gave her cell number out as it was.

“Have you noticed any strangers in your neighborhood?”

“No, no, and n-no.” It was impossible not to suppress the irritation in her tone.

Leaning forward, his eyes darkened further. “Why are you so pissed off at me?”

“You’re kidding, right?” Sensing her agitation, Poofy jumped off her lap. “Do I really need to explain it all over again?” She pointed to herself. “Security clearance? Revoked? Kicked out of Langley? Does any of that ring a bell with you?”

He leaned closer until his face was a scant two inches from hers. “Yeah, and you already chewed my ass out for that. But what you haven’t done yet is take any responsibility for your own actions.”

“My actions?” Trista nearly choked on the renewed flash of anger.

“Lady, you failed to file an incident report, which the agency considers to be a breach of protocol. Protocol that exists to protect you and this country.”

Trista slammed her hand on the table, making her glass jump. “If you want to talk about breaches of protocol, revoking my clearance was a breach of protocol. They shouldn’t have done it. There was no connection to the attack and my job.”

Matt shook his head. “You don’t know that.”

“And neither does anyone else. That’s my point.” She threw up her hands. “Don’t you think revoking my clearance was a bit extreme under the circumstances?”

“That’s not my area of expertise and not my call to make. I don’t work in the world of cyberspace or the black net. If you think they overreacted, then you should talk to your supervisor.”

She gritted her teeth. “Don’t you think I tried that?”

“And?”

“Aaand,” she said, dragging out the word for effect, “both my supervisors refused to listen. I’m on the beach until this is resolved, whenever that is. Probably when I’m old and gray.”

When Matt chuckled, she glared at him. “What’s so funny?”

“You are.” He chuckled again. “You’re cute when you get all riled up.”

“You bast—”

“Relax.” He held up his hand. “Let’s examine the facts. Did you get fired?”

“Of course not. I didn’t do anything wrong.” Now it was his turn to give her a duh look. “Well, okay. Except for not filing that report.”

“Did they suspend you?”

“No.” She reached for her glass of Scotch, grimacing at the realization it was empty.

“So it’s a paid vacation.”

“You don’t get it.” She breathed a heavy sigh and pressed the empty glass to her forehead. “This job is my life. Without it, I have nothing.”

When he clasped her wrist, tugging her hand from her forehead, the warmth of his touch zinged straight to somewhere deep inside her core.

“You said that to me once before, and I don’t believe it. Don’t you have a boyfriend?”

“N-no.” She groaned. It was back. For a few minutes there, she’d been doing great.