My mind babbled it over and over again. His eyes were sunken, looking like he’d been through hell. But he was alive. Upright.
And like me, wearing handcuffs.
19
JASON
I wasmid-sentence when my focus landed on Bill and it made me stop talking. Even after the shit with Nelson, he’d never given me a look like that. My gaze drifted left to the woman beside him.
Holy fucking shit.
Everything had stopped for me when Laurel had been dragged from the room, and the instant my gaze connected with her haunting eyes, it started again. The wall I’d put up to separate us came crashing down.
Her hands were pressed to her face, the plastic edges of zip-tie handcuffs sticking out. The navy marshal jacket thrown over her shoulders was so large it looked like a blanket. How was she alive, and here, and seemingly unhurt?
The reasons didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but the fact that she was shuffling toward me. The only thing standing in my way was an FBI agent and my boss.
“Marshal?” the agent asked, but I couldn’t hear him. I was halfway past the man when Bill muttered an icy command, slicing through my turmoil.
“You stay there.”
It came from him accusatory, angry.
What was going on? What had happened? It was clear his order should not be disobeyed under any circumstance. All I could do was stand there and stare.
Laurel looked like she was in shock. Her hands dropped from her mouth to her chest as if trying to slow its heaving. Bill gently guided her forward, although she didn’t seem to want to go anywhere but to me.
We kept our gazes on each other as long as we could, me finally tearing it away when she left my sight. The agent was waiting for an answer, but I couldn’t even fathom his question.
I decided to give Bill ten minutes, but after five I got too impatient, and although my bruised ribs ached with an enormous amount of pain, I convinced the agent to lead me to my boss. I was shoved through the motel manager’s office doorway, just as Bill ended a call, staring down at the paper spread out on the desk.
“Can we take these off now?” I asked. “What’s with the map?”
“I was looking for an LZ.”
He wanted to find a landing zone so he could move her by helicopter. That made sense. But the way he was looking at me did not.
“When are we leaving?” I said.
“You’re not going.”
I blinked. “Come on, he was slowing me down. I got shot, and it hurt like fucking hell, and I know it’s not an excuse?—”
“You go down the hall, finish your statement, and then go home.”
No.I’d just gotten her back. “You’re pulling me? Why?”
“Nelson, I could understand. I would’ve handled it differently, but I was willing to let it slide because I thought it was a one-time lapse in judgment. But, shit, you getting involved with a witness? I can’t let that slide.”
I blew out a breath. He’d read too much into our interaction at dinner. “Nothing happened between us.”
“Oh, is that right?”
“Yeah, it is.” My pulse sped. Why did he sound so convinced otherwise?
“Tell me about your little trip over to the restaurant.”
My mind went completely blank.
