“And from what follows him,” I say, looking at both of them.
Shiloh lets out a grim little sound. “That list ain’t short.”
“No,” I say. “It isn’t.”
Ever pushes away from the wall and starts to move the way he does when he’s trying not to grab the wheel from everybody in the room. “Then we lock it down. She stops asking questions. She stays where we can see her.”
Shiloh laughs, and this time there’s real edge in it. “You planning to tellherthat? I’d pay to watch.”
Ever’s eyes flash. “You got a better idea?”
“Yeah.” Shiloh points at him. “Don’t treat her like a prisoner if you don’t want her looking for escape routes.”
“So what’s your big idea?” Ever asks. “Because she’s down here asking Nash for a killer while sleeping in our house.”
Shiloh doesn’t blink. “I’m not sure yet. Maybe…we start by making her feel a little more like invited guest and less like a reluctant detainee.”
That earns the smallest twitch at the corner of my mouth. I let it go before either of them sees it and decides to enjoy themselves.
“We keep her close,” Shiloh says, looking at me now. “We shut down the gossip upstairs. We figure out what she knows about Deacon. And we stop pretending she’s just some runaway waitress.”
My stare cuts sideways to him. “You done?”
“You know I’m never done,” Shiloh says.
I fold my arms. “Well, shut up a second and answer me something useful. Which one of you is she sleeping with?”
The silence that follows is almost worth the night full of stress and trouble.
Shiloh breaks first, barking out a laugh that bounces off the metal shelves. Ever looks like he wants to put him through the wall.
I wait.
Shiloh wipes his hand over his mouth and grins despite the tension still hanging off him. “That would be me.”
Ever mutters a curse.
Shiloh swings his head toward him, eyes bright now because he can’t help himself. “But then our boy here kissed her hard enough to make tweety birds and puddy cats spin over her head, so I’d say the scoreboard’s fuzzy.”
I look at Ever and let a slow smile ghost over my lips. “So you’re saying there’s a chance.”
Even he almost smiles. It’s gone in a blink, but I catch it.
“Jesus,” he mutters, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “You gotta be kidding.”
Shiloh’s grin fades as quickly as it came. He leans forward again, elbows on his knees, and when he speaks this time there’s no show in him at all.
“She’s not just some chick,” he says, eyes moving from me to Ever. “You know that.”
Ever’s face closes off, which on him means he heard every word. His fingers tense the smallest bit over the kitten tucked under his T-shirt.
Shiloh keeps going, quieter now. “The way she looks at people… it gets under your skin. She looks straight through the bullshit. Through the jokes. Through the ugly parts.” His mouth twists like he doesn’t quite trust what he’s saying, but he says it anyway. “Makes a man think maybe he ain’t only the things he’s done.”
The words settle heavy in the office. I don’t move. I don’t say a damn thing. I feel them anyway.
I’ve spent most of my life being useful first and human second. People look at me and see what I can do, what I control, what I’ll allow. They don’t usually bother looking past that unless they want leverage.
The way Reva looked at me was different. Fascination and fear and the transparent urge to sass me, all rolled together.
