Sanders, giant fucking ego that he is, quickly checks her out from head to toe before turning back to me. “Sure thing, boss. Will we be putting her in a safe house?”
“Yes,” I say at the same time she says, “No.”
I look at her, every bit in earnest, my eyebrows lifted, and firmly say again, “Yes.”
She tilts her head, meeting my stare with her own. “No. I won’t be in a safe house, my house is the safest place for me. I trust my brothers more than I trust you and your men.”
Sanders and Swan are watching the exchange, and Swan lifts an eyebrow.
“We’ll talk about it on the way.” I say, clenching my teeth again.
“If that’s all you have to talk about, it’s going to be a quiet drive. You can’t make me talk, Special Agent.”
Taking a deep frustrated breath, I think I’ve done that ten times just in the short time since I pulled her into that alcove, I look at Sanders. “Her keys were in the clutch, so we’ll need to tow her car to her home.”
“Got it.” Sanders says, humor dancing in his eyes.
I point at my SUV a few cars away and say, that’s me, and then turn to Sanders. “She lives in Claremore, so I’ll be a minute.”
“Sure thing, boss.” Swan says.
Just as Ms. Harlow is turning to walk away, she says, “And just so you know, I only kissed you back to buy some time to make sure you weren’t going to hurt me. It wasn’t that good of a kiss anyway, too much tongue.”
I glance at Sanders and Swan, who are doing a piss-poor job of hiding their laughter, and rub my hand down my face as I turn to follow her.
How the fuck did I step in this?
CHAPTER THREE
KINLEY
AGENT ABBOTinsists I wake up my husband on the way to my house, and I have to correct him. But then he orders that I wake up my dad and brothers. I tell him that’s not a good idea and we can regroup tomorrow, but he won’t listen.
I’m not calling them.
He turns his phone on record and asks me ten questions in ten different ways as we drive down the highway.
“Why were you outside?”
“I was hot.”
“Did you think it would be cooler outside?”
“At least there was a breeze.”
“Why did you go to that intersection?”
“There were fewer people.”
“What drew your attention to the suspects?”
“Therewas a scuffle. Duh.”
“Why didn’t you run when they turned to you?”
“Because I’ve never seen anyone get fucking stabbed and die before.”
My feet are killing me, so I untie and unbuckle my very uncomfortable shoe and toss it on his floorboard. I swear I catch him looking at my legs, so just to be a bitch, I prop my other foot on the dashboard and slowly take off my other shoe, full leg on display, and let that shoe fall to the floorboard.
