“See?” Brynnon shot back, mimicking Grant with her own arched brow.
Grant huffed out a breath and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “Christ. It’s like trying to reason with a fucking ten-year-old.”
“You’re just pissed because you know I’m right,” Brynnon hissed. “The man is grieving the loss of his son, Grant” After drawing in a deep breath, she reached out, squeezing his taut forearm. “You and I both know what it feels like to have lost someone we loved. Charles Wright needs someone to blame, and for some reason, my father’s the person he chose. If I go in there, IknowI can get him to listen. Or...”
“Or what?”
“Maybe...” She paused. “Maybe hedidfind something that implicates Cantrell Construction. I know in my heart, my father didn’t do anything wrong, but there were a lot of employees working on that project. What if...” She licked her lips nervously. “What if one of them did?” She took a step closer to him. “I need to know the truth. So does Charles Wright.”
Conflicted, Grant stared back down at her. “And if he’s not just a grieving father and he really is the one trying to kill you? Then what?”
She gave him a crooked smile and shrugged. “Then you protect me.”
A second later, Brynnon knew she’d won.
Grant shook his head. “Fine,” he huffed. “We’ll do things your way. But the second I sense something’s off, we’re gone.”
“Okay.” Brynnon nodded. With a hand to his bicep, she whispered, “Thank you.”
He turned to Derek. “Things go sideways, you get her the hell out of there.”
“Roger that.”
With a low curse, Grant began walking toward Wright’s house. “Let’s go.”
They’d parked a few houses down, Brynnon assumed to keep from being spotted. If Charles Wright really was the one who’d tried to run her over, he’d most likely take off running the second he saw them.
“I don’t see the car from earlier. Do you?”
“No, but that doesn’t mean anything. The guy could’ve ditched it.”
Derek spoke up first. “There’s no record of Wright ever owning a vehicle matching the description you gave me. But, like you said, that doesn’t necessarily mean anything.”
As they approached the small, one-level home, Grant instinctively moved his body closer to hers. He rested a hand on the small of her back, the protective gesture comforting.
All of a sudden, Brynnon was hit with the image of his hard body slamming into hers, the two of them flying toward the ground. A shudder of fear raced down her spine.
“You good?”
“Yeah,” she lied. “Just cold.” If she let him know her nerves had kicked in, he’d make her wait in the car for sure.
With his free hand, Grant knocked on the front door. While they waited for its owner to answer, Brynnon looked back up at him. “Remember. Let me do the talking.”
His gaze was intense as he handed her the keys to his truck. “He tries anything, you get your ass out.”
Brynnon shook her head. “I’m not going to leave you behind.”
“That’s the deal. Otherwise, you and D can leave right now.”
Sensing he wasn’t budging on this one, Brynnon took the keys. She started to lie and agree to his terms, because there was no way in hell she’d leave him or Derek in any sort of mortal danger. Before she could, Charles Wright answered the door.
Looking worn down, he appeared confused at first. When he realized who she was, he scowled. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“I was hoping we could talk.”
The older man shook his head. “I said all I wanted to say to you yesterday.”
“Well, I didn’t.” She sighed. “I wish you’d told me who you really were.”
