Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71436 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71436 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
I tip my head up to see Griff. He regards me thoughtfully, finally giving me a smile as he pulls me into his body. Leaning down, he presses his lips on my head and whispers. “Way to stand up for yourself.”
“I’ll be safe.” It’s the assurance Kynan needs, but I give it to Griff in his stead.
“Damn right you will,” he replies gruffly. “Because I’m going to be right there with you.”
I laugh as I wrap my arms around his waist, finally feeling like there’s some light at the end of the tunnel. “Damn right you will.”
CHAPTER 22
Griffin
This early morning meeting with my FBI liaison, Ken Battersham, is the last bit of prep work we need to do before we make our move on Bogachev. We’re meeting in a hotel room in midtown, just a few blocks from the hotel Bebe and I checked into late last night. We’d made the roughly six-hour drive from Pittsburgh to New York after spending most of the day at Jameson so Bebe and Dozer could fine-tune the Hijacker for our close-proximity use.
Kynan did a lot of hovering yesterday, demanding to know details. In general, he was being overbearing and obnoxious. He’s still not happy Bebe threatened to quit if he didn’t let her go, and he’s probably even more unhappy with himself for giving in to her.
I figured it out though.
While Kynan isn’t but eight years older than Bebe, he’s very much a father to her. I never noticed it until they butted heads night before last because of his overprotectiveness, but then it became clear to me. He’s worried for her on a personal level that surpasses that of a boss, and I have to give him credit for it. Ultimately, I had to give him a ton of reassurances we’d be safe and secure throughout.
At one point, he’d actually pulled me out of R&D and demanded to know, “How could you just roll over and support her doing this?”
My question back to him caught him off guard. “How can I not? Yes, she wants to get her life back so she’s impatient, but it’s more than that, Kynan. She wants an active role in taking Bogachev down. He’s the one who ruined her life. If I had to guess, part of this is about revenge and vindication.”
I’m not sure why those words made such an impact on him, but Kynan physically jolted when I said it. His brow furrowed and, if possible, he looked even more worried for Bebe.
Then… he just accepted it.
It was like night and day. After that, he got on board and was supportive. Bebe didn’t notice the change because she was hyper-focused on her work, but I sure did.
When we got to the hotel last night, she had a hard time settling down to go to sleep. I had thought a couple of orgasms would help her out, but she was too wired. She tossed and turned all night just from knowing we’re getting closer to the end. She finally fell asleep close to dawn, so when my alarm went off, I quickly shut it off and quietly slipped out of bed to dress in the dark. I wrote a quick note using the hotel stationary saying I’d be back soon with breakfast in case she does wake up.
It’s not crucial she make this meeting because it’s just to confirm locations and times. Ken’s going to be our backup in case something goes sideways.
I knock on the hotel room door, and Ken opens it up within moments. He’s about my age, and he has, so far, been good to work with on this case. We spent some time yesterday on the phone doing basic planning.
We shake hands, and I follow him in. We decided on a hotel room rather than meeting at the federal building, just to help keep my cover intact until the last possible moment. It’s not going to be long now until I stop being Griffin Stoltz and become my real self of Griffin Moore.
Ken moves over to the table by the window, gesturing to a pot of coffee he has there along with two cups. I help myself to the caffeine before I sit down opposite him.
Pulling out a map that’s been folded to focus in on a specific geographic location, he places it on the table facing me. I immediately recognize the streets of the Brooklyn neighborhood where Bogachev lives.
“How close does Bebe need to be to his building?” he asks.
These are schematics we’d already gone over in Pittsburgh yesterday, so I point to an area just south of Bogachev’s high rise. “Two blocks. Figured we could park somewhere in this area.”
“We’ve got the van requisitioned, and you can pick it up first thing in the morning,” he says. “Just text me when you’re ready, and I’ll bring it over your way.”