Man of Mystery: A BBW Romantic Suspense by Lorelei Moone

have to tell the whole story all over again.
    “Yeah, just… thinking.”
    “I’m just so scared. What if they don’t believe him? What if they keep him locked up?”
    “Just so that I’m certain I’ve understood… These are
his own people
, who barged into your apartment, invaded your bedroom while you guys were in the middle of some hanky-panky, and then they cuffed him and took him away.” Although her recap is worded like a question, her tone sounds more like she’s just making a statement.
    “Right.”
    “And his phone is switched off.”
    “Right.”
    “Well… I don’t see how there’s anything else you can do. You have no way of contacting these people. You don’t know where they’re based. If they want to hear your side to clear things up, they’ll have to be the ones to get in touch with you.”
    Maggie makes sense, as she often does. Of course, that doesn’t mean it’s what I want to hear right now.
    “He saved my life twice, Mags.”
    “You wouldn’t have needed saving if he hadn’t got you involved in God knows what.”
    I sigh. And that’s exactly why I tend to filter the stuff I tell her.
    “Either way, it’s five-thirty in the morning. You’ve got a job to go to in a few hours. Afterward, we’ll hang out and talk some more. Oh, and I hope you don’t mind, but Alec may drop in at some point. I thought it would be nice if you two could meet, finally.”
    “Sure,” I answer absentmindedly.
    We say our goodbyes, and I’m alone again. She’s right. I can’t do anything. I put the phone down and fall back into my pillows. When my alarm goes off, it feels like only a minute has passed, not two hours.

    “Bye, Tess!” Karen’s cheerful voice grates at me as she leaves for the day.
    Meanwhile, my eyes are burning due to lack of sleep, and I’ve got the lucky job of staying behind and finishing what should have been
her
work. Stupid reports. Stupid people. Stupid life.
    I continue to grumble to myself while selecting various cells full of meaningless numbers in the stupid spreadsheet I’ve been working on for the better part of the afternoon. Just when I’m ready to throw in the towel and give up on it all, my phone buzzes once. A message.
    My heart starts to race. Could it be?
Dear Tess, I apologize for last night. Ever since we identified a mole in our unit last week, everyone’s been quite paranoid. That said, last night taught me that our lives are and always will be incompatible. I am sorry. L
    I’m not sure what to do, fling the phone at the wall and watch it break into a million pieces or scream until my vocal cords rip themselves apart. All day I’ve been waiting for some sign - any sign - to let me know that Liam is OK. And now this?!
    What if someone else messaged on his behalf? What if it’s a ruse? I take a deep breath and hit the little ‘call’ icon beside his name.
    It rings once, twice, thrice, and then finally there’s an answer.
    “Hello?” A voice answers. It sounds like Liam, but then, I’ve never spoken to him on the phone so how would I know?
    “Tell me you didn’t mean that?”
    The silence that follows is painful.
    Finally, Liam takes a deep breath on the other end, before responding. “Twice, I’ve endangered your life. They’re right. In our line of work, we can’t afford relationships. It gives the bad guys leverage they shouldn’t have.”
    “But…” Wait, who was right? Don’t tell me the bitchy redhead is giving him relationship advice now.
    “What if I hadn’t reached you in time yesterday? What if they’d hurt you, or worse, killed you? I couldn’t live with myself.”
    “Wait…”
    “That’s how people end up dead, Tess. You said it yourself. Whenever we’re together, people die. I’m not about to wait around until one day you’re the one who’s killed.”
    Click.
    Tears are prickling in my already sore eyes, and I feel empty as empty can be. Like my guts have been ripped out and dumped on the floor in front of