Page 63 of Reid

“That access pass has been revoked.”

Part of Reid was happy, the other part incensed. “Listen to me, you know I was guarding her and right this moment she’s in her apartment alone with a stalker. If you don’t let me up and something happens to her, there won’t be a hole you can hide in that I won’t find you.”

The man blanched and quickly typed on his screen before nodding. “It’ll work now.”

Reid nodded and called from the lift as the man watched. “Call the police.”

Then the doors closed, and he began his ascent. His weapon was locked in his glove box, and his knife was in his trunk. All he had was himself and his wits to get her out of this unharmed and God help that motherfucker if he’d touched her.

As he stepped out onto the floor, the door to the fire exit opened, and he braced for impact, relaxing slightly as Clay stepped through.

“We have a plan?”

His friend walked to him as if this was another job, as if he was in charge as he had been. To any other person, Clay would look relaxed, but Reid knew his friend and saw the tension in him. Yet Clay was looking to him to fix this, and he felt the weight of that on his shoulders, but also the olive branch it was. His attention never wavered, and Reid was bolstered by the confidence Clay had in him.

“Can you get onto the balcony from the room below?”

“Yes.”

“Do it. I don’t have weapons on me, do you?”

“Knife.”

“That will have to do until the police get here. I’m not waiting though. I’m going to see if I can brazen my way inside.”

“Good luck,” Clay said then he was gone, and Reid prayed for more than luck.

Lifting his hand, he knocked hard on her door. “Callie, it’s me. Let me in, we need to talk.” He put a slur in his words hoping if he sounded drunk, Claude would underestimate him.

He waited and heard nothing, so despite the almost paralysing fear in his belly, he knocked again, louder this time. “Come on, Callie, we need to talk. Let me in before the concierge calls the cops on me.” He took a risk with that, but if Claude were sensible, he’d take a chance on him over the cops being called.

Reid heard the lock disengage and her beautiful face came into view. He saw the fear and panic recede as she gazed at him. Her body blocked the door, and he knew Claude was behind her.

“What do you want, Reid?”

“Baby, I just need to talk to you.”

“I’m busy.”

Her eyes narrowed into a squint and she frowned at him. He could tell the second she realised he was sober, her eyes widened before she relaxed. The shadows under eyes were real though, and he knew he was partly responsible for that.

“But, baby, just five minutes. I just need to tell you how sorry I am for leaving.” Reid hated that he was apologising here and now, but he meant the words. “I fucked up, beautiful. I’m so sorry.”

Callie’s eyes softened a fraction at the intensity and truth in his words, then she twitched, and her face hardened again in fear. “Now isn’t a good time.”

“Do you have a man in there?” He allowed his voice to rise in fake anger and indignation. He needed to give Clay time to get onto the balcony and catch this fuckwit unawares. He’d had perhaps five minutes; he probably required two more.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Reid.”

“How is that ridiculous? You won’t let me in.”

“Because I’m busy and you have no right to just turn up and expect me to let you in and listen to you when you were the one that walked away without a word.”

That blow landed, and he took it, knowing he deserved it. He had a lot to make up for and he would if she’d let him.

He saw her wince and wondered if Claude was getting impatient behind her. He decided in that second it was the first thing he’d pay for, and for every second she felt fear, Claude would feel ten times that.

As he was about to shove inside, Callie squeaked and spun around at a commotion behind her. Reid took his chance and pushed the door with his body. Callie stumbled and he caught her as Clay wrestled with Claude on the floor for a few moments, the model was no match for the FBI agent.