When He's Dirty (Walker Security - Adrian's Trilogy 1)

Pri opens her door and I scoop her up and out of the rain quickly before carrying her up the steps to set her on the porch. “I’ll grab our bags,” I say, rushing back out into the rain and returning with her bag, and shortly after, another three the guys packed for us.

“You’re dripping,” Pri worries as I unlock the cabin door and flip the switch controlling the lamp in the living room.

“I have clothes to change into and we have power which in this case means power to run the air conditioner we’ll need when the rain passes. My father pre-paid in cash for the power for several years in advance.” I push open the door and motion her inside, quickly joining her. She scans the plastic-covered couches, and fireplace, while I toss the bags to the floor by the door. “Like I said,” locking up and kneeling by my bag to pull out a change of clothes. “It’s not the Ritz.”

“I don’t need the Ritz,” she says. “I just want to stay alive.”

“The back and sides of the house are booby-trapped by the way. If anyone comes at us beyond the front door, they’re in for a painful surprise. My father knew how to cover his bases. You can feel safe here.”

“Booby traps,” she murmurs. “I don’t know what to say to that.”

“We won’t need them,” I assure her, pulling off my wet T-shirt and replacing it with a dry one, then standing with a dry pair of jeans in my hands. “Kitchen,” I say, pointing to the right where a brown table sits. “One bedroom and bathroom. I’m going to go check those rooms.”

“I’ll uncover the furniture,” she offers, and I nod, heading to the back, checking things out, and then drying off before changing pants.

Once I’ve returned to the main room, I find the basic brown couches exposed and Pri kneeling by the bags. She holds up a candy bag. “We have plenty of M & M’s, I see.”

“Dessert and superpower food.”

She laughs and pulls out a bag of Cheetos. “Also superpower food.”

“You know it,” I assure her. “Now we just need whiskey. See if there’s any soda in those bags, will you? I have frozen and canned foods, if we need them to get by but Savage packed us some extras.” I walk into the dusty-ass kitchen, and find an equally dusty-ass bottle of whiskey, a couple bottles of water, and two plastic Solo cups, before returning to the living area.

Pri stands up, holding the candy, and displaying a small bottle the size of a salt shaker between her index finger and thumb. “It’s called Sweet Tea Mio, one of those flavor additives for water, and there’s a note from Savage that reads, ‘Water, Mio, whiskey. Thank me later.’”

“Savage knows his whiskey, so let’s give it a try.” I motion to the living room and we settle onto the couch. Pri’s already removed the plastic from the basic wooden coffee table and we set our haul on top. “No cable,” I say, filling our glasses with whiskey and water, while Pri adds the Mio. “But we have computers.”

“What about the internet?”

“Lucifer will give you a secure line. I have a new phone for you, and Lucifer will forward your calls to it.” I hand her a glass and lift mine. “Shall we try it?”

“I’m all in,” she says, and we both take a sip, the sweet mix of tea and whiskey a surprisingly good combination.

“I like it,” Pri says. “And I don’t even really like whiskey.” She takes another sip and leans back onto the couch cushion, facing me. “Tell me about your father.”

I lean into the couch facing her. “He was a good man, a proud man. A skilled agent. He made me want to be a better man.”

“And mine made me want to bill the highest dollars. I let the money go to my head and I’m not proud of that.”

“Because that’s the bar your father set for you to be successful. Hell, I like money, too. I made more money with Walker during my first year with them than I would have my entire career in the FBI. And I got to do good things.”

“That much money?”

“Yes,” I say. “But I did go overseas.”

“And did what there?”

“Rescued a foreign diplomat’s daughter, and captured a terrorist, among other things. Pretty much it’s the rite of passage for Walker. We all go, make our money, and decide when we’ve had enough.”

“Is it a requirement?” she asks, reaching for her drink as if she suddenly needs it.

“It’s not. Nothing but honesty and integrity are requirements at Walker and they share the profit with us all anyway, even stateside.”

She sips her drink and sets it back down before scooting closer to me, her hand on my leg, her touch tempting me already. “Tell me something,” she says.