He looks around, "I don't see any strangers."
When his eyes land on mine again, they're glittering with humor, begging me to take the bait and continue this back and forth with him.
When I don't, he continues, "You couldn't be talking about me. We'redefinitelynot strangersanymore."
My cheeks warm from the salacious meaning in his words, the reminder of just how close we've gotten.
Knocking the box gently against the counter, he presses again, "What happened?"
"A cop was waiting for me when I got home from getting coffee today," I let the truth slip out.
His face drops, all humor and fun gone in a single blink.
"What was his name?"
I shrug, "Didn't ask. I was too busy lying through my teeth and trying to get rid of him. But IknowI recognize him from somewhere.”
His fingers tap against the counter again, "What did he want?"
"He was looking for you. Thought I'd know where you are," I lean my elbows onto the counter, laying my forehead between them, feeling a sense of relief from telling someone what happened, even if that someone is the person responsible for it all. Realistically, he's the only person who might be able to help anyway.
A beat of silence, then, "What did you tell him?"
Speaking into the cool marble, I mutter, "Nothing. Told him I have no idea where you are. Haven't spoken since before you got arrested."
"And?"
"And he didn't believe a word of it. He said you're dangerous, which," I sigh. "Duh. But he also said that people like you bring it home and I'm likely to get caught up in your mess."
"He threatened you," Cormac's voice creeps across the counter, cold and bitter. "He came here looking for me and he threatened you."
I hum in acknowledgment.
"What else did he say?"
The other part of our conversation doesn't need to be repeated.
I don'tcarethat he was sleeping with his last lawyer. Idon't.
"Brigit."
A groan of annoyance slips out of me, "Nothing important."
"Seems important."
"It's not," I insist.
Silence.
I can't even hear him breathing.
One second.
Two.
Three.
I lift my head to see if he's going to say anything, but he's gone. He slid out of the chair without making a sound.
