The Survivor - Cristin Harber Page 0,13

one to search for hidden meanings in straightforward conversations, but he was curious. It was as though she had a list of archaic rules that kept her from society. Though not away from Jared. That realization bothered Hagan most of all.

He finally reached the final stretch of stairs, and a nagging sense of a missed opportunity made his spirit feel as heavy as his body. What would’ve happened if Boss Man hadn’t interrupted? Maybe Hagan would’ve learned if she was a fan of Majboos.

Hagan was resting his hand on the heavy door’s push bar when he heard Jared hustling down the stairs. Boss Man always hauled ass, but Hagan knew this time he wanted to catch up. He groaned and clutched the metal bar, considering if he had the energy to evade his boss. Even if he did, Hagan would rather get their conversation over with. Dutifully, he turned and waited.

Jared rounded from the staircase above, caught sight of Hagan, and slowed his roll. “You don’t even know what you stumbled into, do you?”

“Guess not.” Hagan leaned against the wall. “Just thought today would be a good day to run the stairs.”

“Got that wrong, didn’t you.” Jared pushed open the door. “Come on.”

Hagan followed into the unfinished first-floor lobby. The sub-flooring muffled their steps so that their heavy steps didn’t make a sound. Jared stopped at the skeletal remnants of an old registration desk. A sense of foreboding made Hagan feel as exposed as the renovation site.

Jared rubbed a hand over his face. His lips pinched together as if he didn’t like what he had to say. “Stay away from her. You see her, you turn the other direction. She walks into the stairwell, you walk out. She says hello, you don’t even say goodbye. Do you read me?”

Hagan’s scalp prickled. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected from Jared, but that hadn’t been it.

Jared moved into Hagan’s personal space and growled. “Do you read me?”

He feigned nonchalance, unsure if a territorial urge or dehydration was the source of his growing irritation. Jared’s face didn’t show the hint of a joke. If anything, Hagan hadn’t seen his boss this serious outside of a war room. Hagan leaned into the conversation. “That might be a problem.”

Jared’s jaw twitched. “And why the fuck might that be a problem?”

“Because I’m taking her to dinner.”

Boss Man blanched, then turned an unhealthy shade of pissed off. “Does she know that?”

“Technically—”

“Hagan,” Jared managed. “This is above your pay grade. Stay away from her.”

“Until when?”

Boss Man looked like a volcano ready to erupt. A vein pulsed on his forehead. “Until forever, until I say different. Until there’s a damn good reason for you to see her again—and there won’t be, so until never.”

There wasn’t a reason to pick a battle with his boss. Hagan needed this job. It paid better than he could have ever hoped, and his family needed that kind of cash. He liked his teammates and the work. Hell, he’d never been the asshole to escalate an argument over a woman. Not until today.

Still, Hagan couldn’t force himself to back up and say okay. His fists curled as though they might go to blows.

Then Jared jerked back. He stuck a finger out instead of taking a swing. “Stay away from her.” He jabbed his hand. “There are a million fish in the sea. Find any of them but her.”

Jared rubbed his temples like the mother of all headaches had crawled up his ass and taken residence behind his eyes. Then, without another word, he left.

Hagan stared at the construction exit, speechless. Then, like a bad habit, he wondered where the woman had gone. There were several ways to leave. If she stepped into the lobby, would Hagan follow orders and ignore her?

He didn’t know and waited to find out. Still, she was a no show. Too damn bad. Despite the crotch shot, she had been the highlight of his day.

CHAPTER NINE

Amanda wandered to the closest skybridge and crossed into tower one, then took the freight elevator to the fifth floor. She figured no one from Titan would be on that floor. After all, one day, it would serve guests who didn’t need armored safehouse suites or SCIF-level conference rooms.

From there, she used a back stairwell and slipped out of the building, checked her surroundings, and eased into the steady stream of foot traffic, keeping a vigilant eye out for problems.

Two city blocks later, she took an easygoing breath and ducked down an alleyway between two

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