No, Peyton Smith was lying to me. She had torpedoed this prosecution for a reason, and I was going to find out what that reason was—maybe not tonight, but soon.
CHAPTER 4
Peyton
I leanedback in March’s Porsche on the way to my place. God, I loved the feel of the seats in this car. “Hey. We need to pick up my bike.”
“Good idea.” He hit the brakes and made a U-turn.
March had just gotten off the phone with Duke Hawk, asking him to tell Serena and Grace that I was okay. He’d also relayed the entire hospital visit, which I could have done without, and most embarrassingly, he reported that he was staying overnight at my place.
He blew out a loud, exasperated breath. “You know, you should stop lying to me.”
“What do you mean?”
Then, I got the inevitable question. “At the hospital, why did you lie and say you didn’t remember anything?”
“It’s all fuzzy, very fuzzy. I remember waking up with you carrying me like some gorilla.” I looked out the window. “You said I was mugged, but you didn’t tell me exactly what happened.”
We turned the corner onto Tito’s street, and I gasped. “My bike.”
March slowed and drove the length of the block. My bike was gone.
Crap.I blew out a long breath. “How much shittier can today get?”
“I’m sorry about your bike,” he said, laying a comforting hand on my shoulder. “But look on the bright side. Today could have been much worse.”
“I don’t feel lucky. You try getting a concussion and see how you do.” I tilted my head toward him. “Feel the bump on the back of my head.” When he didn’t, I kept after him. “Go ahead, feel it.”
He finally ran gentle fingers over my hair—such a sensitive touch. “You banged it pretty bad.”
Shivers ran through me. I shouldn’t have dared him to touch me. What was I thinking? Now I had him saying nice things to me too.Stupid, Peyton.
“You want to talk about a bad day?” he challenged. “You could have gotten back a bad CAT scan at the hospital and be in the operating room right now with them cutting open your skull to save your life. Or that idiot with the knife could have slashed you so bad that I couldn’t get you to the hospital before you bled out. That’s how I define a bad day.”
“I get it,” I admitted. It had been a shitty turn of events, but he and the SEALs he’d gone on missions with had surely ended up with even worse days.
“You’re breathing, you’re not seriously injured, and you’re in a car with me and I’m not even hitting on you. I’d say that’s not too bad a day.”
I had to ask. “Did you have a bad day where you lost a teammate on a mission?”
He cringed and gritted his teeth. “Yes, and it’s an experience I hope you never have to endure.”
“Yeah.” I’d lost people, but in a different way that I couldn’t explain. With that thought, I agreed with him. “Today is a bad day, but it could definitely have been worse.”
I was about to give him directions when he made a right turn, in the direction of my condo.
“Do you know where I live?”
He nodded.
“That’s creepy.” I didn’t mean the words to sound mean. They just came out that way.
“It’s the job.”
I crossed my arms.
“Why don’t you want to deal with the police?”
