Page 56 of Elijah’s Whim

“No. I loved every second of what happened between us yesterday. From up in the clouds to between your thighs.”

While he was in the middle of that embarrassing comment, his cell phone must have vibrated in his back pocket, because he fished the thing out with efficiency and put it up to his ear in one smooth motion.

“Banks. Yeah, hey, man. What do you have for me? All right, will do. Thanks, I appreciate the weekend work. Yeah, yeah.” He grinned and ended the call.

Well, what do you know? He could have a normal conversation with someone.

When he ended his call, he scrolled through his phone, and his eyes darted back and forth across the small screen and then got eerily still. He looked up to find me watching him.

Trying to interpret the expression I saw staring back from those captivating features was unnerving.

“Elijah? What is it? Is everything okay?”

He took a deep breath. “Do the names Ronald and Cynthia Trask sound familiar?”

Of course they do, but why would he know that?

I nodded slowly. Like every other time over the past twenty years, hearing those names put me in a tunnel the size of a pinpoint. I had to focus and fight to get to the other side. There was no oxygen in this tunnel. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t see.

Help me. Someone help me.

This is not my mother.

“Okay, let’s sit down.” Elijah’s voice came across the tunnel, and I felt hands grasp my shoulders.

As per my programmed response, I batted at his chest as he approached.

“Don’t touch me,” I said—or tried to say through the vise grip around my throat.

The confident man eased me down to the counter stool and then gave me the space I needed.

Finally, when the panic ebbed, I looked at him through clear eyes and asked, “Who told you about this?”

“Let’s go sit on the sofa, where it’s more comfortable and there isn’t a hard floor under you. That makes me nervous.”

“Say what you need to say right here.”

“Okay, you stand there, then, if that’s what you prefer. I’m going to sit in there.” He thumbed over his shoulder toward the great room. “I’ll shout if you can’t hear me. Just let me know.”

“Why are you such an ass?” I asked to his back. The view of his actual ass while he did so, however, was nothing if not divine.

“Elijah Banks,” I muttered, “I think I hate you.” I mumbled the whole thing under my breath, but based on the cocky smirk on his face when he scooted back into the corner seat of the sectional sofa, he heard me just fine.

With a huff, I went and sat on the sofa opposite my host and propped my elbows on my knees. I really wanted to control this narrative in just one relationship in my life. I didn’t think that was too much to ask for.

“Tell me what you know,” I said. “Also, why do you know about this part of my life? Those records were sealed. I was a minor.”

“Let me start by asking you a question. Do you know my occupation?”

“You work at Shark Enterprises,” I said with confidence, but when I tried to drill it down to what he did there, I couldn’t. I gave him a little shake of my head. “I’m afraid I don’t know. My guess, based on you coming to Abstract with Grant that afternoon, is it must have something to do with security.”

“That’s a very good and educated guess. I do a lot of background checking when new people come into Sebastian’s orbit, mostly corporate-level stuff. I also have a team of hackers I work very closely with when things get questionable. I make sure Bas’s security systems are tight and that no one has breached them. Well, you get the picture. It’s a lot of security stuff but not limited to that. Also, not always white hat, if that’s what’s called for. In other words, I have the resources I need to get the job done.”

“Okay, that’s all great. I’m sure you have a very impressive résumé. But that doesn’t answer why you have very personal information about me that I did not give you permission to obtain. I’m not in Sebastian Shark’s immediate circle, and neither is this…” I made a weird hand gesture in front of me to represent the matter at hand.

“There’s the rub. If you read your employment contract at Abstract, you’d know that you agreed to background checks, drug screening, stuff like that, at the employer’s discretion. Because my best friend is a paranoid motherfucker, when Abbigail was in Twenty-Nine Palms last summer, everyone who ever breathed near the woman was investigated or reinvestigated. I believe you were hired when she got back, right?”

“Yes, that’s right. I heard about some of that, though, from her and Rio.”