The idea of Frey coming after Laurel was ever-present in my mind. But I’d thought it was to silence her, not to have her, and this revelation made something basic inside me snarl that I’d never let that happen.
The urge to protect her was relentless and consuming.
And it wasn’t only because it was my job. I had to stop kidding myself. This thing between us was more than just lust. Laurel was smart and tough. A proven fighter when she'd come face to face with Frey, and she'd escaped.
I respected the hell out of her.
But I was terrified that our connection went beyond simple respect. I liked Laurel.
I liked herfarmore than I was allowed to.
13
LAUREL
I should have beenhappy Jason had taken off and let me have a moment to breathe without him around. I’d spent only a minute in the gas station bathroom trying to get a grip. Some more time wouldn’t hurt.
I hadn’t meant to kiss him.
But on those freezing stairs, in the dark, he’d given me the same look from the mirror, and I’d been completely powerless to stop myself.
Not him. He swore I was a job and nothing else, and although he was so clearly lying, it hurt all the same. Denying he felt this thing between us was like being gaslit. A strange fog of lust had haunted me from the second we’d shaken hands in the FBI office.
If anyone was confused about feelings, it was him.
But the guilt over putting his job at risk was eating at me, even when I tried not to think about it. There were other things to worry about.
“What’s happening?” I asked. “What was on his phone?”
Derrick stared out the windshield, and I wondered if he hadn’t heard me. Then, he pulled out his own phone, tapped it a few times, and turned the screen toward me.
“This is what was inside the envelope Kowalski was supposed to deliver.”
He didn’t give me a lot of time to look at it, but it made no difference. I recognized the bloody costume instantly. The word scribbled beneath the photo made my heart race and my breath short.
No.I’d never be Frey’s.
If I ever saw him again, hopefully from a witness stand, I’d be sure to tell him so.
I wanted Jason to come back. I needed to know why seeing this picture had made him upset enough to bolt, especially when Derrick hadn’t.
My wish was granted when the back door opened, flooding the space with cold air. Jason’s face was dark and unreadable as he stood beside the car.
“Did he show it to you already?” he asked. When I nodded, his gaze narrowed on his partner. “I wish you hadn’t done that.”
“No,” I said. “I need to know what’s going?—”
His shoulders tensed, and he pushed his jacket back off his hip so he could unhook the gun holstered there.
Breath halted in my lungs. This gas station was busy and public, so he wouldn’t bring his gun out unless he had no other choice.
“What’s up?” Derrick’s voice was hurried and alert.
“That sedan at the next pump over,” Jason said. “The passenger is pumping the gas, and he’s been doing it since we got here.”
He could look downright lethal when he wanted to, but I only got a glimpse of it before he closed my door, turned, and headed to the next pump.
Through my window, I watched as he made his approach. He announced loudly he was a Deputy U.S. Marshal, drawing the attention of the man who had one hand on the nozzle. The guy was short with red cheeks, and I wondered if it was the cold, orif his skin was always flushed. His posture was relaxed, which was... odd.
