Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 104185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
“Jason,” her voice was breathless, “what are we doing?”
“I don’t know.” I pressed my lips to hers softly.
I wished Shawn wasn’t in the other room, banging around in the kitchen, putting pans on the stovetop. We had less than two days left together, and the asshole in me didn’t want to spend them with my brother hanging around.
“Once Bill finds the leak, will it lead him to Frey?”
“I don’t know,” I said again. “Don’t think about it.”
Like it was that easy. I forced myself to let go of her and retrieve a shirt from the bedroom, and then begrudgingly led her into the kitchen.
Shawn had removed his suit jacket and tie and rolled back the sleeves of a shirt that was sure to cost more than my government paycheck.
“Tell me, L, how does a guy like Jason meet a girl like you?” There was suspicion in his eyes, and I didn’t like it. My brother wasn’t an idiot. He knew Laurel was out of my league. “I can’t imagine he goes to the ballet.”
For being a performer, she wasn’t much of an actress. “Online.”
Shawn laughed like he was thrilled, then sobered. “I might have believed the mugging, but that I certainly don’t.”
She tilted her head. “Why not?”
“Jason might not be as good as I am, but he’s never had a tough time finding women.”
I balled my hands into fists. “Shawn.”
The asshole flipped a strip of bacon and stood back when it splattered and popped in the hot pan. “You won’t tell me her name, she’s obviously been assaulted, and you brought her here. You didn’t ask because you don’t want anyone to know.” Shawn’s gaze fixed onto mine. “What excuse are you going to give me about your back? Fell down some stairs?”
I sighed. “Yeah, all right. She’s a case.”
For a moment, no one said anything, and his expression was . . . puzzling. He stared at me like I was missing something obvious. Then his gaze drifted to Laurel.
“You’re obviously not just a case to him.” He said it like an apology. “I don’t think my brother was implying that.”
Oh, fuck.
“I know.” Her words were tight, and she refused to look at me. Because I’d hurt her and hadn’t realized how it must have sounded. But Shawn did. I wasn’t any good with emotions, but my brother?
He excelled at them.
Figure out how to fix that later, my brain said. Deal with the German first.
“When are you leaving?” I asked.
He shrugged. “It’s a big house. And, you know, mine, so I was planning to stay a few days.”
“Great,” I gritted out.
“Calm down.” He lifted his gaze to the ceiling before it returned to me. “I don’t want to be a third wheel, so let me eat and get a few hours of sleep, and then I’ll be on my way.”
He fixed a plate of food and presented it to Laurel, but she shook her head. “Oh, thank you, but I already ate.”
He gave a look that said, fair enough as he strolled toward us. He set the plate down on the island next to where she stood before pulling out one of the bar stools beneath and dropping onto it. “How did you end up here?”
He ate beside her, comfortably and annoyingly close, and inside I groaned with frustration. I didn’t want my brother anywhere near her. Women fell over themselves to get to Shawn. It was part of the reason why my brother had racked up two divorces before hitting forty.
And I’d had more than one woman leave me and upgrade to him.
“The less you know about her situation, the better,” I said.
“Who am I going to tell?” He broke off a piece of bacon and popped it in his mouth.
“I heard a man confess to killing someone,” she said, “and when I escaped, he came after me.”
“L,” I said under my breath.
“Is it really that big of a deal? I’ve told him hardly anything, and he’s letting us stay at his place.”
He considered her statement critically. “But the Marshals Service paired you with Jason and . . . sent you here?”
She shook her head and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “The man after me knew where the safe house was, and he attacked the place they moved me to. That was where Jason got shot.”
My brother’s eyes widened.
He hadn’t known exactly what had caused the injury, although he assumed it was from violence. He spoke again in German—his was always better than mine—but that made sense. It was his native language, whereas I had learned English first.
“You were shot?” he asked. “Are you okay?”
“It hurt. It still hurts, but yeah,” I responded in German. I could tell Laurel wanted to know what was being said, so I switched back to English. “Can we not talk about this?”