"We have people who can do that."
"Why would you help me?"
"We want the same thing. Info on Wilson."
Tristan debated another several heartbeats, knowing he didn't have much time. His gut told him he was safe with this stranger who had killed to save him.
He decided to go with his instincts.
For now.
He stepped off the porch and up to the man, who nodded curtly and headed toward the street. Tristan followed silently, hoping his gut hadn't sealed his death warrant.
His rescuer's head was on swivel as they approached a black SUV. Seeing and hearing nothing, they both got inside. Tristan buckled his seatbelt, and his companion leisurely drove off as if he hadn't just murdered a man.
Tristan sat in the passenger seat and stared straight ahead, holding the laptop in a vice grip. Now that the immediate danger was over, he registered that his heart hammered in his chest and his stomach churned. He supposed his reaction made sense, given he'd just been on the business end of a gun before a gorgeous stranger materialized out of nowhere to save him like some freaking action movie.
A stranger who acted entirely too casual about putting a bullet in someone's head.
Tristan's emotions were all over the place. He felt relief mixed with gratitude to the man who had saved him. He was glad Kenny's hacking had been useful and was satisfied that they hadsuccessfully tied Wilson to Natalie's disappearance. He wasn't so sure how he felt about Wilson's death, but the laptop gave him hope that he hadn't felt in days, and he prayed something on the computer would help him find her.
On the other hand, he was currently trapped in a moving car with a murderer and started to question his decision. Maybe he should try to escape as soon as possible, but with Wilson's associates looking for him, where would he go? Maybe he was safer with this guy. He didn't know why he had killed Wilson, and it was perfectly plausible that Tristan could be next. But if he wanted him dead, why intervene to save him?
His thoughts ricocheted like pinballs in his brain, and agitation overwhelmed him as he tried to process it all. He bounced his knee in a nervous habit until his companion glared at his face, then his leg with a pronounced scowl. The daggers that shot from his eyes made him seem grumpy rather than menacing, but Tristan stilled his leg and pressed the computer to his thighs for added insurance.
"Sorry," he mumbled.
The stranger glanced at him and nodded curtly before picking up his phone, tapping it a few times, then holding it to his ear. Tristan cringed at the unsafe driving behavior, but considering everything else, he supposed that was the least of his worries.
"Hey, so it all went sideways. The target's dead, but I didn't get any intel."
The man paused, then shifted his eyes toward Tristan. "I can't explain now, but I'll call soon with details."
He dropped the phone onto the center console and looked back at the road.
Uncomfortable in the silence, Tristan cleared his throat and said, "Thank you, by the way. For, um, saving my life."
His rescuer glanced at him briefly, then returned his focus to the road. "You're welcome," he answered, his voice a little gruff, a little sultry.
The car rumbled along the road while Tristan's mind swirled with images from the scene he witnessed. He didn't think he'd ever get over the terror of having a gun pointed at his head or the feeling of ice in his veins when he thought he would die. He also watched, up close and personal, as a man took a bullet to the brain.
He shuddered at the recollection, then blurted out, more loudly than he intended, "You killed that guy."
His rescuer didn't even flinch. "Yep. And I don't feel bad about it. He was a predator."
"But aren't you afraid the police will find you and arrest you?"
He shrugged. "Haven't caught me yet."
His cavalier admission sent a shiver down Tristan's spine. "You've done it before? Killed someone?"
"Yeah. It's my job."
"What?"
"You heard me."
Tristan studied the man's profile as he wondered what the hell he'd gotten himself into. "So, is that why you were there? To kill Wilson?"
