A look of disappointment washed over her cheeks.
“It really is too dangerous right now.”
A defeated sigh escaped her.
“I know. I just feel so conflicted. I want to see him, yet I don’t.”
She set her plate aside, leaned her head back, and pinched the bridge of her nose with her thumb and index finger.
“And now I’m getting a splitting headache.”
The headache was probably stress-related. He completely understood that.
Cap’s phone dinged again. He looked at the screen and then returned his gaze to Emma, who’d slipped into a lying position on the couch. Her long, dark hair spilled over a small square pillow, and she’d curled into a ball.
“Chief said that Jonathan is out of the ICU.”
“That’s good. Even with how angry I am with him, I want him to be okay.”
He liked that about her. That she could look past all the evil and still wish the man well.
“I think our walk tuckered me out.”
The words were hardly out of her mouth when her droopy eyelids closed. Being on the run could be exhausting. He knew that firsthand.
As quietly as he could, he cleared their plates and glasses from the living room and set them on the kitchen counter, then he set off to retrieve a blanket from the hallway closet. The closet was also the gateway to the natural-stone crawl space that housed the furnace, electrical panel, and water heater, accessible via a simple trapdoor in the floor with a small ladder. The only windows in the space were those small, rectangular basement windows. One on each side of the cabin. The egress was a set of cellar doors to the back of the cabin, the only other way out of the crawl space. One of the first things he did when he arrived at the cabin was put two cinder blocks on the door to hinder anyone from coming up through the crawl space. The blocks were still in place. He snatched a fleece blanket from the shelf and returned to the living room.
Gently, he spread the blanket over Eamma, and he couldn’t resist thinking how beautiful she was and leaned over to kiss her forehead. She stirred slightly, but her eyelids stayed shut. Her fresh, outdoorsy scent lingered in the air. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, taking in as much as he could. He liked the way she smelled. It was calming to him.
He walked over to the living room window and moved the curtain just a hair to peek outside. The sun shone, and the air was still. A great day for fishing. Soon, Hunter and Cici would leave the dock for the afternoon charter. Unease coiled in his stomach. He silently prayed they’d stay safe from the Colombians. The last thing he wanted was to put them in danger, and with Markie running around in Jonathan’s truck and being sighted all over the county, that should keep the Colombians off of Hunter and Cici’s trail. Of course, this theory assumed the Colombians monitored social media. If he were them, he would.
Behind him, Emma breathed evenly. He was glad she was able to relax enough to rest. If only he could. But there was too much riding on him as well as too many moving parts and too much pressure. Everyone’s safety depended on him.
Chapter Seventeen
Cap checked his watch for what felt like the tenth time since he and Emma had eaten dinner. Their conversation had picked up some throughout the evening, but it still hadn’t returned to the ease they’d shared before the hike to the lake. Before his internal implosion.
The old 90s sitcoms they watched had been a nice distraction for a couple of hours, but now that the ten o’clock hour approached, his comfort level plummeted. His nerves tightened. Would they sleep together tonight as they did last night?
Should he ask her to? Did she want him to ask?
Emma sat on the couch staring at the television. Her injured ankle rested on a small pillow on the cocktail table in front of her. Earlier, when she’d gotten up, her limp had barely been noticeable.
Though they watched a comedy, she hadn’t laughed for a while, so either the show wasn’t funny, or maybe she was in the same state of mind he was. Conflicted about the thought of the sleeping arrangement.
He stood and did another quiet sweep through the cabin. All the doors and windows were locked.
He looked over his shoulder at Emma. “The squad is still in place. There’ll be a shift change at eleven.”
Emma pulled her foot off the table and stood. Then she grabbed the balled-up blanket he’d covered her with earlier and folded it.
“Where does this go?” she asked.
“Hall closet,” he replied as he pointed to the hallway.
She opened the door, then she leaned back and peeked at him from behind it.
“What’s with the cinder blocks?”
