I rested an elbow on the doorframe, yawning in his face. “Out of all the boyfriends you don’t want to piss off, Rothwell, mine is probably at the top of the list.”
“Nice haircut.” His hands were stuffed into his front pockets casually, and he dripped nonchalance, like I didn’t bail on his ass, ruined years of his work, and on top of that, got shot and had to shave my head as a result. Truly, Tom Rothwell was probably the only man on this planet who could rival Luca’s coldness. “And why is that?”
“Why’s what?”
“Why don’t I want to piss off your boyfriend?”
I laughed at the blatant attempt to milk more information out of me. “Achilles could get here any minute, you know.”
“Achilles is at the port, overlooking a shipment.”
My stalker had a stalker. The universe really did have a twisted sense of humor.
“If that’s true, why are you here instead of there, arresting him?” I challenged.
“Because if I catch him on drug trafficking charges, I won’t be able to throw him in the can for the eleven homicides I have linked to him.”Jesus. “Can I come in?”
“No.”
“Thanks.” He breezed past me, giving zero damns about my refusal. Tom peered around, cataloging the recently refurbished bachelor pad and burning every inch of it into memory. “Nice love nest.”
“Isn’t this considered breaking and entering?” I clenched my teeth.
“What’d I break?” He looked around in mock innocence.
“Trespassing, then.”
He gave me a pitying look that assured me he could take a shit in the center of the living room without blowback from his superiors. “This’ll be quicker if you cooperate.”
I sighed in frustration. “Coffee?”
“Black. No sugar.”
“Shocking,” I muttered, shuffling to the coffee machine. His hawkish glare scorched through my skull as I busied myself with mugs and teaspoons.
“How’ve you been?” He reached for a vase, seemingly arranging it, and I made a mental note to throw it away when he was gone.
“Oh, you know.”
“Can’t say I do. You disappeared on me last we spoke, remember?”
“Vaguely. I had an unfortunate accident abroad. Head injury.”
“So I heard.” He ambled closer, taking up much more space than his trim, athletic frame claimed in the room. “Funny, I couldn’t find your passport in the database to confirm your flight to Prague.”
“Hmm.” I swirled my teaspoon in his coffee. “Governmental software is known to be glitchy.”
“Tierney.” He was so close now his breath tickled the nape of my neck, causing goose bumps. I swiveled on my heel, clutching the counter behind me. “Do the right thing. Give me those statements.”
“What statements?”
“The ones on the USB.”
“I can’t confirm them.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Amnesia.”
