His jaw tightened. “I got that concussion a week ago.”
“James,” I leaned closer, dropping my voice. “You need to give yourself more time to heal.”
“We don’t have time.” He closed his eyes in frustration.
“We do.” As long as we could stay hidden, we’d be safe. The problem was, James hated safe when it looked like hiding.
I wasn’t happy about it either.
James wasn’t the only impatient one. If Gerald Knox thought we were coming after him, he’d be tightening security, covering his tracks. He might even be moving his trafficking somewhere outside of Little Rock.
I needed to get in touch with my contacts sooner rather than later. But every time I mentioned reaching out, James shut it down. I’d gone along with him up to now, but after hitting dead end after dead end online, it was time to switch tactics.
I wasn’t sure James subscribed to the it’s easier to ask for forgiveness than permission philosophy unless he was the one asking for forgiveness.
Oh, who was I kidding? I doubted he’d asked permission for anything in his life, and I definitely didn’t see him begging anyone for forgiveness.
“I’ll check in with you every half hour,” I said. “And if I see anything suspicious, I’ll leave immediately and head straight back to you.” When he didn’t respond, I added, lighter, “I used to be a cop, you know. I was pretty good at noticing people who aren’t behaving as they should.”
“I don’t like it,” he growled.
“I know. But you know I’ll be fine.”
He closed his eyes again, and I kissed him softly.
James Malcolm, ex-crime boss, a man who’d helped take down an international crime organization, had never struck me as gentle. And for the most part, he wasn’t.
Maybe that’s why I felt the need to be gentle with him sometimes. Not because he was fragile, a word that didn’t describe him, even injured. But because tenderness wasn’t something he’d gotten much of in his life, I felt a need to show him he was worthy of it.
Even if I wasn’t sure I deserved it myself.
“I’m going to take your silence as a yes,” I said when I pulled back.
“I still don’t like it.”
“I’ll even pick you up a steak and baked potato.”
He cracked a grin. “You’re gonna grill a steak?”
“Hell, no,” I said, laughing. “I’ll find a Longhorn Steakhouse or something.”
“That’s my girl.”
He’d said that phrase a few times since the night Knox’s men had attacked us, and it sent a rush of heat through me every time. I wasn’t a gushy kind of woman. I’d never been very demonstrative in relationships, but my connection with James felt different. I didn’t want to examine why.
“The bed’s not made,” I said, shifting off him. “So take a nap here on the sofa.”
His gaze held mine. “You got the cash Carter left us?”
“I’ll grab it on my way out.”
“Grab one of the new burner phones too.”
“Will do.”
When we’d arrived at the safe house, we’d found a pile of cash, two new burner phones, and a couple of bags of groceries waiting for us. We’d left our real cell phones at James’s house and had been living on cash and burners ever since. Anything to avoid being tracked, but they’d tracked us to the last place anyway.
It made me wonder if Knox had a list of James’s safe houses, or if James had a rat in his crew. When I’d asked him, he’d dismissed both possibilities.
