Trent pulled up in front of the Guardian’s office. She climbed into his Jeep, her tablet on her lap, leaned her head back, and shut her eyes. “Could you take me home?”
“You really don’t look all that well.”
Chloe put a hand over her eyes. Light hurt, hit like shards of glasses piercing her brain—everything hurt. “Thanks. I don’t feel all that well. Someone’s beating a very large drum in my head. Migraines. I’m not very good company at the moment.”
Trent put a hand on her forehead. “Home it is.”
She put a hand on her stomach—the nausea had started.
“Aspirin in the glove box,” Trent said. He sounded worried.
She started to shake her head, but that was a mistake. “I’ve got something stronger at home. Then I just need rest and quiet. The meds usually knock me out for about eighteen hours.”
Pulling up in front of the bungalows, he shut off the engine and she heard his door bang open and closed. She gave a groan. She sat where she was, willing herself to find the energy to get up. Instead, Trent swept her up. She cluched her work tablet and tried to look at him, winced at the light, and shut her eyes again. “I can walk.”
“Humor me, dude.” He carried her to her bungalow, somehow managed to get the door open, and the next thing she knew, a soft bed cradled her body. Trent threw a blanket over her—more softness that seemed a comfort. She heard the hiss as he closed the drapes, darkening the room. The pounding lessened a fraction. He took her computer from her, pulled off her shoes. She heard him moving around, and he came back, propped her up, and said, “Here, take these. Dude, you don’t fool around with the weak stuff, do you?”
She took the pills, had them bitter on her tongue, and swallowed the cool water. She lay down again. Trent covered her forehead with a wet cloth. She caught his wrist. “Thanks.”
“I’ll lock up when I leave. I’ll look in on you later.” He kissed her forehead.
She heard rustling from the other room. The front door opened and closed. She frowned. Something wasn’t quite right, but she couldn’t think. She couldn’t do anything. She was pretty sure this migraine had been brought on by too much work in front of a computer.
The pain killers were fast working and already she was beginning to get that floaty sensation that preceded a respite from the horrible pain. Sighing, she relaxed her shoulders and gave herself over to the pills and oblivion.
***
Trent waited for a few moments outside Chloe’s place. He’d used his own key to let himself in—he was hoping she hadn’t noticed. He locked her door now and headed for his place, Chloe’s tablet in hand. He texted Travis to get his ass over there.
Twenty minutes later, Travis let himself in. “Bro, got your text.”
Trent waved at the computer on his dining room table. “I’ve got a Guardians of the Earth tablet.”
Travis let out a low whistle. “Where’s Chloe?”
“She’s got a killer migraine and just took enough pain meds to desensitize a horse. And we’ve got an opportunity too good to pass up.”
Travis glanced over his shoulder. “Still trying to guess her password to get in?”
Trent nodded. “That and I need a key fob to VBN remotely. I’m going to have to go back to her place.”
He stood and Travis slipped into his seat. “Careful, bro.”
Heading back, Trent let himself into Chloe’s place. She didn’t seem to carry a purse, so the key fob would be on her. Slade Security used a similar security measure. A random code was generated every hour and sent out to the key fobs. If you didn’t have a key fob, you didn’t have the code; so you couldn’t log in remotely to the network. Trent had lost the first one he’d ever been given and had been chewed out for that. Now he needed Chloe’s.
He eased into the bedroom. Her breathing sounded regular and deep. Slipping a hand under the blanket he’d thrown over her, he felt her front pockets. He got lucky on the right one and felt something hard and oblong. He slipped it out. She stirred in her sleep, muttering one word—a name. “Sam.”
Trent froze. What the hell? He already knew she’d been engaged—it hadn’t gone well. But she still dreamed about the guy? Pissed now, he tightened his hand around the key fob. Yeah, well, he wasn’t in this for a forever after. He headed back to his place, this time leaving the door unlocked so he could slip the key fob back into Chloe’s pocket.
When he came in, he saw Travis staring at his phone and grinning. “Care to share?” Trent tossed the key fob to Travis.
Travis caught it one-handed and put down his phone. “Nothing urgent. I’ve got an idea on that password.” He worked fast, pulling up access to the Guardian’s network. He typed in the key fob number, and then a password. He grinned. The network opened up for him.
Arms folded across his chest, Trent frowned. “Okay, how’d you know her password?”
“Easy, really.” Travis cracked his knuckles. “Her first horse was named Beanie. She won a few barrel racing contests with him, so he must have been good. Had to be either Beanie or her mom’s name—which was Sally—but mom died when Chloe was a kid, so I figured horse mattered to her more.”
“Not her dad’s name?”