He shook his head.
“Well, that’s where I put it when I get on the plane.”
“But what if someone goes through your luggage and steals it?”
“The case itself has a biometric lock that only works with my fingerprints, and there’s a GPS tracker in it as well. If it’s removed from the duffel by anyone but me, Owen is notified immediately.”
“So both the duffel and the case are basically coded as a single unit.”
“Correct.”
We boarded mere minutes after we reached the gate, and once we were seated on the plane––with Benji by the window and me on the aisle, the only way it could be since I was there to protect him––I felt my entire body get heavy like it weighed a thousand pounds. I realized then that the entire time I’d been with Benji in Rune, I’d been hypervigilant. Even though it hadn’t been something I was conscious of doing, I’d gone right back to my military training, looking for threats everywhere.
“You guys have some serious tech, don’t you?” Benji asked me out of the blue, and then, before I could answer him, told the flight attendant that he was good with just the bottle of water for the moment.
“And you, sir?” she asked me.
“Me too,” I assured her, and she smiled and left us.
“Private security has some of the best tech on the market,” I explained to him, picking up the conversation. “And even though we’re not at James-Bond-level gadgets, Owen always makes sure that whatever the new cool toy is, we’ve got it. He knows if there’s an upgrade to something we’re using, be that hardware or software, and he’s constantly changing things up. I appreciate his commitment to his job, and something simple like my duffel being monitored, as well as the case inside of it, allows me to travel with my firearm and not have to worry about it like I’ve done in the past.”
Benji sighed. “You like him.”
“Who? Owen?”
He nodded.
“Yes and no,” I said, chuckling softly. “He’s really good at his job and making sure, if it’s in his power to do so, that we’re safe, but he’s also young, and he can get really fixated on things and drive you absolutely nuts.”
Benji was smiling at me.
“What?”
“You, of course, were never like that.”
I grunted in response.
“Does he act like he knows best and thinks he has to share his annoying opinions?”
“What do you think?”
He chuckled. “I think he sounds like the little brother you never had.”
“I am the little brother,” I grumbled, “and I’ve never been a know-it-all.”
His snort of disbelief made me smile in spite of myself. “I can’t wait to ask your mother,” he said with a sigh. “I am so looking forward to meeting her.”
“Well,” I yawned, “she’s great but invasive, so just watch what you say or you’ll fall under her spell and never get away.”
“Oh, that sounds terrible,” he replied sarcastically.
“I’m glad you called Sian and Delly from the car,” I said as we began to taxi down the runway, and for once in my life, I let my eyes drift closed. “I’m sure they were both worried.”
“They were,” he agreed, holding my hand in both of his. “But Sian especially thought it was a great idea that you took me out of town. I think she’s relieved to have me gone.”
“No,” I murmured, leaning sideways without opening my eyes, loving the feel of his soft lips on the side of my neck.
“Oh, now that was a good noise,” he whispered, kissing under my jaw. “I love this beard on you, which is crazy since I’ve never liked them before.”
“I think you might be particularly fond of me,” I teased him.
“I suspect you may be right,” he agreed, and nuzzled closer. “Try and nap a little, all right? I’m safe, so let yourself breathe.”
And it was a truly inspired suggestion. The issue was, as much as I wanted to sleep, I was still on a plane. I wasn’t one of those people, like Nash, who could sleep, hard, anywhere. Once when flying into Springfield, Missouri, I’d had to apologize to an entire small plane full of people and explain that no, he wasn’t dying, that was just him snoring.
“He should have that checked out,” one woman had suggested.
God.
So I was awake when we landed in Chicago at an hour of the morning that I was usually sleeping. Leading Benji first through the United terminal at O’Hare, then to baggage claim, all the while holding his hand, I was surprised when I glanced over and found him looking a bit shell-shocked.
“Are you all right?” I asked as I led him to the carousel where our bags were.
“Absolutely,” he answered far too adamantly and fast.
Minutes later, having both bags, I repeated my question.
He nodded, still with a lost expression.
“You look a bit lobotomized,” I suggested.