Doing that is hard enough; doing it in front of someone who sees everything—and is a massive asshole about it—is going to be infinitely worse.
"He also destroyed all the video from last night," he adds, coming closer to me and placing my phone on the bedside table.
"No, he didn't," I laugh. "He just put it somewhere only the two of you can see it."
His face falls, something close to guilt filling it. "You're probably right. But better us than them."
That's true, at least.
Hesitantly, I let my legs fall over the edge of the bed, my frigid feet landing on the soft rug. Barely holding back a grumpy groan, I stand, immediately missing the fluffy, Cormac-scented warmth of the bed.
Slipping my phone into my pocket, I follow shortly behind him down the stairs to his kitchen. Two bags from the bakery down the street from my apartment await me. Before I can even sit at the counter, Cormac pulls out a scone and puts it in front of me, followed shortly by a massive cup of coffee.
My eyes narrow up at him, once again suspicious because there's no way he could know that this is my go-to spotunlesshe's done a little bit more than just keep an eye on me.
"So," Skyler leans against the fridge, dressed in a fresh button-up patterned shirt with a sliver of the black t-shirt underneath poking out, and a pair of jeans without a single wrinkle. "The video from last night is gone. You're welcome.Andyour apartment is spotless. You're welcome again."
"And the..." I swallow, struggling to get through the wordbody. "The guy?"
Cormac clears his throat, but doesn't respond.
"You don't need to worry your cute little head about that, Brigy," Skyler grins.I fucking hate that nickname."Leo and Tate are professionals. Sorry about your rug, though."
"Thanks," I mutter through gritted teeth. Not because I'm upset—it was just some cheap thing I found at the store on clearance—but because saying thank you to someone who helped clean up a murder scene makes me sick. If I open my mouth to talk about it, I think the bile in my stomach might make an appearance.
"You're welcome." He either doesn't realize that my gratitude is mostly sarcastic, or he's choosing to ignore it.
"So what now?" Cormac asks him, sinking into the seat beside me, unwrapping my scone from its plastic.
Skyler lets out a heavy breath, "Well, I’d need to swing by Mingle to find the ID and background check we have on him. Iknowhe’s come through a few times, but I don’t remember much else.”
"And he was posing as a cop?" I pry, tearing the scone into pieces because I can't stomach it quite yet. "Why?"
Cormac takes a sip of his coffee before answering, "It's what I would do."
"What?"
He looks at me from the corner of his eye, "Yeah. If I thought my target was someone who was afraid of being on the wrong side of the law, I would definitely use that to my advantage. He knew you'd be an easier mark if you let him in rather than having to force his way."
"Fortunately," Skyler continues, "You could tell he wasn't trustworthy. Your cynicism really saved your ass there."
My paranoia keeping me from blindly believing someone just because they're in a position of authority? Look at all that fucking growth. A few years ago, I would have listened to anything he said just because he wore a badge.
"What might be concerning still, is that he's not a cop, but he knew where you live." He adds, "As much of a hassle as I'm sure it is, you probably need to stay here for a while."
"But Cormac has been found here before," I argue. "If anyone is looking for him, this is the first place they'll come."
Skyler looks at Cormac, raising a single brow in a wordless suggestion.
I can see them have a silent conversation with just a split second of expressions, slightly shaking heads, and a disbelieving smile from Skyler before his attention lands on me again. "You'll be fine here."
"How can you be sure?"
Cormac's hand lands on the chair behind me, and shivers run upmy spine from the graze of his thumb against my back. "I have a safe room."
"Then why didn't you use it before?" I raise a brow.
Skyler chuckles, but it's Cormac who answers.
