I can’t stay here. She let me have my secrets last night, but now, they’ve put her in danger too.
Flipping the lock, I sink down onto the floor and clutch my backpack to my chest. My hands shake, but I find my old flip phone and dial the number Frank made me memorize twenty years ago. I hope to God it still works.
Raelynn
The sirens get louder as I text West.
Raelynn: Got some trouble brewing. Won’t make it to the warehouse today.
Three dots dance along the bottom of the screen. In less than two minutes, I’ll be elbow deep in cops, so he better be quick.
West: What kind of trouble? And where?
My first instinct is to tell him I can handle this on my own, but after our talk yesterday…I have to give him something.
Raelynn: The kind that walks into a coffee shop in broad daylight with a silenced pistol. And takes a shot at Nash.
Lights flash along the ceiling from the black and white pulling up to the curb.
West: I’m on my way with Ry. Fifteen minutes.
Raelynn: I want to talk to Nash first. Alone. I’ll meet you at Ry’s when I’m done here.
The dots start bouncing again, but I slide my phone into my back pocket as the officers push through the doors. West is gonna be pissed at me, but there ain’t much I can do about that. Once I unravel this mess, I can try to salvage a single scrap of the SEAL’s trust.
Half an hour later, I trudge up the stairs to the studio. Teresa did great talking to the police. Despite how shaken up she was, she didn’t say a word about Nash. It helped that she fled into the back room after two shakes and hardly saw a thing.
Nash opens the door, his hair sticking up at all angles, and ushers me inside. “They don’t know about me. Right?”
I tilt my head and give him the side-eye. “If they did, don’t you think they’d be up here by now? They think the guy came after me because I cut him off on the freeway. Just some deranged idjit with anger management issues. Barely worthy of filin’ a report.”
Some of the tension leaves his shoulders. “Thanks. Is Teresa okay?”
“She will be. Adam just got here. He closed the shop and he’s gonna take her home. And he doesn’t know you were there either. You can thank me for coverin’ your ass by tellin’ me why someone would want you dead. And why you’re scared of the police.”
Nash shoves his hands into his pockets and moves to the window, peering out a small crack in the drapes. “I’m not…wanted or anything.”
“Well, that’s a start. But if you believe that guy was shootin’ at anythin’ but you, you’re a damn fool.”
“I’m nobody,” he says. His voice might be only a whisper, but I can still hear his desperate need for the words to be true.
“Sure. And I’m Elmo.” With a huff, I glance around the studio. There’s nothing personal here. A plate standing up in the rack next to the sink, two shirts and a pair of jeans hanging in the closet, and his backpack sitting on the small couch. The rest of the space is pristine.
“Do you even live here? Because this,” I say, gesturing around us, “ain’t sellin’ the ‘I’m not wanted’ bullshit you’re feedin’ me.”
He flinches, shoulders hiked halfway up to his ears. “I move around—”
“A lot. I know.” Anger simmers just under my skin. After what we shared last night—and this morning—I can’t believe he’s still lying to me. “I shouldn’t care what you are, Nash. But I do. And I can help. If you let me.”
A black strap peeking out of the closet catches my eye. I cross the room in three steps and find a small duffel bag almost full to the brim. Right on top? The shirt he was wearing yesterday morning.
“You’re runnin’.” Those two words scare the piss out of me. I’m about to lose him, and I don’t know why. “We have somethin’. I know you feel it too. But you’re about to throw it all away.”
He strides over to the door, pain rolling off him in waves. Staring down at his feet, he pauses with his hand on the knob. “I have to. Please, Raelynn. Just go. I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to fix your heater. Or…spend another night with you. But…it’s better this way.”
“Better?” I gesture to the cut on his cheek from the ricochet. “A couple of inches to the left and I’d be mournin’ you…” The lump in my throat swallows my words. I can’t do this again. Losing another person I…care for would put me in the ground faster than a prairie fire with a tail wind. “You think runnin’ is gonna keep you safe? That asshole wasn’t some amateur. You’re up shit creek, Nash, and I’ve got a goddamn boat.”
“If you get involved…” He shakes his head, still refusing to look at me. “I’ll call you. In a day or two. But right now, I need to leave.” The sorrow in his voice is like a knife to my heart.
