Chapter 50

Chapter 50

Julian

I left Poppy with Harper as she attempted to install the deadbolt, the sounds of their bickering and laughter trailing behind me as I went to my apartment. The hot water from the shower cascades over my shoulders, but its soothing warmth does little to ease the tension knotting my muscles.

Call it intuition, but something about Harper and Poppy's recent conversation is gnawing at me. As a former Lieutenant of Delta Force, I've learned to trust my gut and be smart about it. That's what I'm going to do now.

I turn off the shower, the steam swirling around me as I step out and wrap a towel around my waist. Grabbing my phone, I dial the front desk, a number I've never needed before now.

"Hello, front desk," chirps Bethany, a single, divorced mom of two, working this as her second job. I make it a point to know people; it was part of my job as a soldier. And yes, I even knew about the swingers who used to live on the second floor. I just never gave a shit because, at the time, I wasn't living in the building, I was deployed.

"Hey, it's Julian from 12A," I start, my voice steady despite the storm brewing in my mind.

"Mr. Sterling, I don't have any packages here for you," Bethany replies with her usual warmth. I've always appreciated her; she knows this building and its residents like the back of her hand.

"I was actually calling about maintenance."

"Oh no, what's wrong? Let me message Marsha," she offers eagerly, always ready to help.

"No need," I interject quickly, keen to get to the point. "I was curious about the maintenance man who came by to fix the sprinkler heads, and I didn't catch his name."

I just need a name to start digging.

"Um," Bethany hesitates, her voice tinged with uncertainty. I can almost picture her furrowing her brows in confusion. "I'm sorry, Julian, but there is only Marsha. I'm not aware of a new hire." Her voice wavers slightly, and that's all the confirmation I need. I find myself involuntarily bracing, widening my stance as if preparing for an unseen threat.

"My neighbor mentioned there was an issue, a recall for the sprinkler heads. A maintenance man came by to replace hers. I wanted to make sure mine were not recalled."

"Um…" I can hear the rustling of papers, the sound of Bethany flipping through notes or a logbook, trying to make sense of my query. "I'm sorry, I don't know what you're referring to. Let me call Marsha and ask. Can I call you back?"

I grip the phone tighter, a knot forming in my stomach. "That would be great. Thank you, Bethany."

The call ends, but I remain motionless for a moment, the phone still pressed to my ear. The silence in my apartment feels heavier now, laden with unanswered questions and growing suspicions.

Bethany's return call confirms my fears: there was no recall and no maintenance personnel other than Marsha. It makes no sense. We caught the Russian and the sniper, but something's off, and it's not just intuition now.

I dial my uncle next, the man who knows everything.

"Jay, how was the lake?" Uncle answers, his voice always welcoming despite his line of work.

"It was great," I bite.

"But?" He senses my worry.

I brief him on the situation, my voice betraying a hint of emotion.

"Well," Uncle Dan sighs, "It's possible they were scoping out Poppy as their next target for blackmail. I'll look deeper, but Julian, we got them."

"I know." The memory of my fist connecting with the man who targeted my brothers and me is vivid. "But they were inside her apartment." The thought alone fuels a protective rage in me, an urge to keep her safe at all costs.

"When you're at work tomorrow, I'll send someone to check it out and look at her apartment," he offers casually, as though deploying CIA operatives is as mundane as food delivery.

"Her friend Harper is here," I add, pacing the length of my bathroom.

"I'm aware," Uncle Dan responds, a hint of a smile in his voice. "I've had eyes on Harper since we got that intel from her. I offered her a job, which she quite ungraciously declined. But you know me." I can almost see the determined grin on his face.

"I do, Uncle Dan, but Harper isn't one to be easily swayed unless it's heavily in her favor."

"Hmm, interesting," he muses thoughtfully. "Listen, go back to your day, act normal, and let me look into this. I'll call you tomorrow with any updates." Uncle Dan orders.

The anxiety in my stomach twists tighter. "I don't want to lie to Poppy, Uncle Dan," I confess, feeling the weight of my own secrets. I should've told her about Theo sooner. I was just... afraid of losing her. I needed her to love me before I delivered that blow.

"I'm going to talk to her now," I reply.

There's a pause filled with unspoken understanding. "You really love her, don't you?" he asks, his voice unusually soft.

"Yes."

"I can tell. It's easy to lie to those we don't care about; it's torturous with those we love, even when we're trying to protect them." His voice trails off, leaving me wondering about his own hidden battles.

"I'll have a team there tomorrow. Let her know."

I nod, even though he can't see, and make my way to my walk-in closet. "Thanks, Uncle Dan."

"Love you," he says before the line goes dead.

I quickly change into fresh clothes, my mind racing with thoughts of Poppy. As I reach for the doorknob, my fingers hesitate. Life is easy when you are single and don't have a lover to care about or protect.

Easy gets boring; it's like eating the same bland food every meal, every single day.

Sharing your life with a partner is torment and pleasure combined into an unstoppable storm. You feel the wind cool you and invigorate you, but it also whiplashes you when times are turbulent.

I'm not afraid of a storm on the horizon; I know my strengths, and I know I can protect Poppy and keep our love alive.

I just need her to let me.