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backpack on and grabs my hand. “Safe house.”
    *
    Our walk to Benjamin’s safe house is uneventful.
    Praise Jesus.
    Strangely enough the house is in a ritzy neighborhood, like the kind in the movie Notting Hill . Does Benjamin have celebrities for neighbors? Do they invite each other over for tea? I can only imagine him there, pinky finger extended as he oh-so-politely chats about the weather, and all the while his very dangerous gun is sitting in the middle of the tea car, as if it was ready for a game of Russian Roulette.
    A nervous giggle leaves me.
    “What’s so funny?”
    “Russian Roulette.”
    He eyes me. “You’ve played?”
    “Aren’t we playing now?”
    “This is not a game to me,” he says in all seriousness.
    I look up and down the street again, at the row of houses that are neat and trim with luxury cars in the drive. “Why would you pick this place?” I ask as he opens door.
    “Because it’s unexpected.” A ghost of a grin appears on his mouth. “And I won it fair and square in a virtual poker game.”
    As soon as we walk inside, he leads me to a living room and I collapse on the sofa. Butterflies are still fluttering in my stomach. All I want to do is sleep and wake up eleven million hours later so I can discover that this has all been a bad dream.
    Ben limps across the room, dragging one foot a little.
    I sit up. “Did you get hurt?”
    “Bullet grazed me, I think.” He begins to strip out of his work suit, right down to a pair of boxer briefs that show more than they conceal. I can’t help but ogle his butt while he bends over to take off his socks.
    “Yeah, no entry or exit.” Straightening, he walks to me and pulls me up. “Let’s check you.”
    “I didn’t get hit.”
    “You might not feel it yet.” He runs his hands over my butt and up the sides of my hips.
    I’m certainly feeling that, but I’m not going to let him know. My nipples tighten just in time for him to skim his hands cross my breasts, but his forehead is scrunched in concentration and he keeps moving, so I don’t think he notices.
    When he’s done feeling me up from head to shoe, he steps away and holds out his hand. In the center is a small black rectangle that used to be in my skirt pocket.
    Outrage fills me. “Did you cop a feel in order to get that?”
    “I did.” His jaw tightens. “Mind sharing what’s on this?”
    “I have no idea.”
    “You stole this from work. You have to know what’s on it.”
    “I don’t even know what it is.” I shake my head. “I took it out of the package as soon as Mr. Pinter made that slip. The box it was in, was already torn on one side from when I was crawling all over the floor.”
    “I will find out. It’s best if you go ahead and tell me who you’re working for.”
    “I work for PharmGen.” I scrunch my nose. “But not anymore. Pretty sure we’re both fired.”
    He stares at me for a moment, then closes his hand and drops his arm by his side. “Seriously?”
    “Wouldn’t you fire us?”
    “Why couldn’t you have left the fucking flash drive in the lab, broke the rules like you did the day before?” I flinch at little at the accusation. “They’ll come after us now and I have no choice but to protect you.” He punches a nearby wall. Bits of plaster and dust fall. “I didn’t want this life again.”
    “You used to jump off buildings and kill bad guys?” I say, only half joking.
    His muscles tense as he stalks over to me. “There are so many things I used to do, so many things that would scare you.” He grabs my chin, forces my head up as he searches my face. “I have to get my family involved in this. There is no other way.”
    “I’m glad you have family to help.” I attempt to smile. “I don’t have anyone.” Not even the grandmother who blamed me for everything bad that happened to our family.
    His eyes close for a moment. “I know.” He breathes heavily. “I know.” Strong arms come around me, his hands molding me to him as