Oh. I close my eyes. I left her for one night, and she could have been kidnapped or worse. Murdered by that asshole.

“Christian, I wasn’t here,” she whispers in the gentlest of tones.

“I know.” I open my eyes, feeling hopeless and worthless at once. “And all because you can’t follow a simple fucking request. I don’t want to discuss this now, in the shower. I am still fucking mad at you, Anastasia. You’re making me question my judgment.”

I leave her and grab a towel as I stalk out of the bathroom. I want to hang on to my anger. It protects me and keeps her away from me.

It keeps me safe.

Safe from more complex and difficult feelings.

I towel myself dry. I’m still damp as I dress, but I don’t give a damn.

I storm out of the closet and along the corridor to the kitchen.

“Coffee?” Gail calls after me, as I head toward my study.

“Please.”

At my desk I look once more through Hyde’s background check. There’s something here. I can feel it. Gail appears and leaves a black coffee on my desk.

“Thanks.”

I take a sip; it’s hot and dark. Damn, it tastes good.

I call Welch.

“Good morning, Grey. I hear you’re back in Seattle,” Welch says.

“I am. Who told you?”

“I just got an update from Taylor.”

“So you’ve heard about Hyde.”

“Yes. I’ve put a call in to my contact at King County PD. Find out what’s going on.”

“Thanks.”

“And I’ve heard from the FBI.”

There’s a knock at my door, and Ana stands in the doorway, wearing the purple dress that reveals every womanly curve she possesses. Her hair is in a bun, and there are diamonds in her ears. She looks prim and proper, hiding her inner freak, and it’s arousing as hell. I shake my head, dismissing her, noting the downturn of her mouth as she turns away.

“Sorry, Welch—what did you say?”

“The FBI. There’s a match. The partial print in the EC135.”

“It’s Hyde?”

“Yes, sir. The FBI uncovered his convictions as a minor in Detroit.”

Detroit again.

“They match,” he says, “though those documents are supposed to be sealed, which is why it’s taken a few days.”

“What does that mean?”

“They may be inadmissible.”

“Shit, really? Well, there’s also the footage we have of Hyde outside Escala that Prescott found earlier this week. It’s obvious he was checking the place out. And, of course, the CCTV from GEH’s server room.”

“The police have been wanting to question him about the incident at GEH, but they hadn’t been able to locate him.”

“They have him now.”

“Indeed,” Welch growls. “And the two investigations are going to compare Hyde’s prints for a match.”

“About time. Did you get anything out of his former assistants?”

“No. They’re reluctant to talk. They all say he was an excellent boss.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Agreed, given the hushed-up harassment claims,” Welch mutters. “We’ve only spoken to four. I’ll keep pushing.”

“Okay.”

“What do you want to do about the heightened security around your family?”

“Let’s keep it for now and see where this goes with Hyde. We have no idea if he’s working alone or with someone.”

“Okay. I’ll report back when I’ve heard from my contact.”

“Great. Thanks.”

I check my e-mails. There’s one from Sam letting me know that he’s been inundated with press inquiries about last night. I respond, telling him to send all inquiries to the King County PD press office.

Taylor enters. “Good morning, sir.”

“Did you get some sleep?”

He blows out a breath. “A few hours. Enough.”

“Good. We have a great deal to cover.”

He pulls up a chair and we run through my to-do list.

“…and, finally, get a carpenter to fix the door.”

“Will do. Briefing at ten with the entire team. I’ll let them know,” Taylor says.

“Please.”

“Sawyer and Ryan are in their racks. I’m assuming they’re still asleep. Prescott is sifting through the CCTV from last night to find out how Hyde got into the building.”

“Good.”

“Sir,” he says, in a way that gets my immediate attention.

“Yes?”

“I’m grateful we came home last night. Maybe you have a sixth sense or something.”

I’m taken aback. “Taylor, I was just mad at my wife.”

His sudden smile is wry and world weary. “Happens to us all, sir.”

I nod, but his words are not reassuring; he’s divorced.

Don’t go there, Grey.

“Thank God Ana and Gail are safe,” I add, as I get up. I’m hungry for my breakfast.

“Yes, sir.” He follows me out of the study.

“I’ve made you an omelet,” Gail says to me, and she gives us both a huge smile.

Maybe Taylor and Gail will tie the knot.