“What do you think I should do?” After asking, I feel a little guilty. It’s obvious I’m putting a lot of pressure on him.
He inhales deeply. “The more I think about it, the more I think we should get you into protective custody. I don’t know enough about this case to predict what he’s going to do.”
“And he gets away with killing my sister,” I deadpan. There’s a slew of reasons I don’t want to be put into protective custody. Selfishly, the most important is I know it won’t last forever. When they decide they’ve tried hard enough to figure out who he is, or when more time than they can dedicate to me passes, they’ll kick me out. This guy has proven he’s patient and willing to do whatever it takes to make my life hell… or worse.
“He won’t get away with it, but making sure he can’t get to you is more important right now, Harlyn.”
“And what happens when they don’t believe me, or there isn’t enough evidence to pursue? What then? He’s free to come find me again.”
“No, I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen.”
“Oh yeah? How?” I challenge.
Boone narrows his eyes before leaning forward in his seat. “I’m not a campus cop or a local detective who hasn’t ever seen, let alone solved, a homicide. Hunting killers is what I do, and I’m pretty damn good at it.”
“Then be good at it and help me find the person who murdered Hayzel.”
Boone leans back in the seat that almost looks too small for him. His eyes, which appear more cobalt in this lighting, rake over me, and I can’t tell if that comment insulted him, or if he’s just trying to figure out how to shut me down again. “I want to help you get justice, Harlyn, but I’m not willing to risk your life for it. If he got to you—” He shakes his head slowly, not finishing his sentence, but I can guess where he was going. He would blame himself, and I have experience with that. No one wants to think they could have done more. It softens me a little, taking away some of my frustration.
I take my own deep breath before asking, “Just tell me what you were thinking before and what changed on the ride over.”
He lifts his chin an inch or two, assessing me. “Nothing and everything.” His half answer is less than forthcoming.
“Am I supposed to know what that means?”
“You guys are welcome to enter theater two.” I turn around in my seat. I hadn’t heard anyone approach. By the time I’m turning back around, Boone is already gathering our snacks. If he thinks this conversation is over, he’s wrong.
“Come on,” he urges, standing so close to my chair I have to crane my neck back to look at him. I’m not even sure I have enough room to rise without bumping into him. When I grip the armrests without argument, he takes a small step back. Maybe I should have stayed put. I would like to have known what he would have done about it if I hadn’t acquiesced so easily.
We walk side by side down the hall, but he manages to reach the door before I do when we get to the theater, shoving it open with his shoulder and holding it for me to slide past him. I swear he leans in and inhales my hair when I do.
“Are you bipolar?” I whisper when the door closes.
He stops dead in his tracks for a heartbeat. “No.” Thankfully, he doesn’t seem offended, but I’m embarrassed. I’m allowing my emotions to make me brash.
“I’m sorry. It’s just that, I can’t get a read on you. One minute you’re sniffing me, and the next you’re acting like... I’m confused, and it’s making me a little crazy.”
“I’m acting like someone who wants to keep you safe.” He lifts a hand, gesturing for me to move into the very back row. “Not too far down,” he adds when I move toward the middle seats. I roll my eyes, not worried he will see me in the dimly lit theater, but I move back to take the seat right next to him.
The place is empty, but we’re still early. They haven’t even started the previews yet. “It’s freezing in here,” I complain when my ass makes contact with the wide, red leather seat.
Boone reaches across me, his forearm bumping my boob while he taps a button on the side of my seat. “Seats are heated,” he says from way too close since he hasn’t pulled back yet.
“Oh goodie, at least my butt will be warm,” I tease, which makes him smile. I could count his eyelashes, but I’m more interested in how his lips would feel against mine.
“It reclines too.” He finally gives me some breathing room as he shifts back, not that it helps. He’s still too close.
“Wow, this place just keeps getting better. Next time I’ll bring a blanket. Maybe this will be my new hangout.”
I look around, not bothered by the shadows, but I know that’s only situational. If Boone wasn’t with me, I don’t think I would even make it past the swinging doors. “Do you have a gun?”
“Now who’s capricious?” he mutters. I’m slightly offended he used a much better word than I did. Hell, I know a lot of people who wouldn’t even know what that word means, let alone how to use it. “Of course I have a firearm.” He runs his hand over his flat stomach, as if he’s fixing his shirt.
“But do you have one now?” My mind is doing flips, wondering where it could be and what it would feel like to go exploring for it.
Boone turns his head slowly to look at me. “I’m not going to let anyone hurt you, Harlyn.”
“That’s good to hear, really good, actually, but I’m not just questioning if you can keep me safe. I mean you walked right into the condo earlier.” I don’t go so far as to tell him I want to make sure he’s safe, but I’m pretty sure it’s obvious that’s where my thoughts were going.
