"Dark sedan, three cars back. They've matched every turn I've made for the last mile."
I watched her hands clench in her lap, saw the color drain from her face. Fear. Pure, undisguised fear.
I hated that I couldn't make it go away.
"What do we do?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"We lose them."
I took the next right without signaling, then an immediate left into an alley. The sedan tried to follow, but I was already accelerating through the narrow passage, my rental SUV barely fitting between the brick walls.
Betty grabbed the door handle, her knuckles white.
"Trust me."
I burst out of the alley onto a side street, took another sharp turn, then merged onto a main road with enough traffic to provide cover. Three more turns, doubling back twice, before I was satisfied we'd lost them.
"Are they gone?" Betty asked, finally allowing herself to look back.
"Yeah. We're clear."
She exhaled shakily, pressing a hand to her chest. "That was Lang and Briggs?"
"Could be. Could be someone they hired. Either way, they're keeping tabs on you." I pulled out my phone at a red light and sent a quick message to my team. "I'm going to have Santos run the plates, see if we can identify the driver."
"How did they know where we were?" Her voice was trembling now, the adrenaline starting to wear off. "How did they find us?"
"They probably had someone watching the bar. When we left, they followed." I reached over and took her hand, squeezing gently. Her fingers were ice cold. "Hey. Look at me."
She turned, and the fear in her eyes made my chest ache.
"They're not going to get to you," I said, putting every ounce of conviction I had into the words. "Not while I'm here. I promise you that." I brought her hand to my lips, pressed a kiss to her knuckles. "I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe, Betty. Whatever it takes. Do you understand?"
She stared at me, her eyes wide and glittering with unshed tears.
"Okay," she whispered finally. "Okay."
I held her hand the rest of the way home.
She didn't pull away.
The apartment felt different when we walked in. Smaller. More intimate.
Betty shrugged out of her jacket and tossed it over a chair, then just stood there in the middle of the living room, her arms wrapped around herself like she was trying to hold herself together.
"You should try to get some sleep," I said, even though I knew neither of us would be sleeping tonight.
"I can't." She shook her head, her voice thin. "Every time I close my eyes, I see that SUV coming at my car. Or I imagine what would've happened if you hadn't been driving tonight. If I'd been alone."
"You weren't alone. You're not going to be alone again. Not until this is over."
She turned to look at me, and something in her expression shifted. The fear was still there, but underneath it was something else. Something desperate and raw.
"I don't want to be alone tonight."
My heart slammed against my ribs. "You want me in your bed?"
"Not like that." She held up a hand, and I saw it tremble. "I just... I don't want to lie in my bed, staring at the ceiling,listening for sounds and imagining the worst. I want..." She swallowed hard. "I want to feel safe."
