He didn’t like that she was stepping back into the open now that he knew why she had stepped out of it. Didn’t like the idea that Matteo Serrano had men hunting her, just waiting for her name to light up in whatever hole he hid himself so he could gain points with his father.
But he understood it, having spent half his life doing the same thing, slipping into places he wasn’t supposed to be, making sure he left no footprint behind to point to him as he accomplished the objective someone higher up had given him, and then vanishing before anyone even knew he had been there. Hell, he even respected it to some degree. It showed she had guts. He just wanted to make sure those guts didn’t get her killed.
Across the room, Delaney glanced up at him, and their eyes held for half a second.
Then she looked away, and he blew out a slow breath, knowing there was no way he would ever talk her out of this.
Abe walked back inside a few seconds later. “Perimeter’s clean for now. Nothing out there but wildlife.”
Elvis gave a curt nod. “Thanks.”
Abe nodded as he made his way over to the coffeemaker after setting the rifle to the side. “Bit nippy outside.”
Blaze cleared his throat as he pointed to the monitor. “I’m building a layered trail for you,” he said to Delaney. “Corporate filings under your real name. Small consulting contracts, graduation records, change of addresses that make it look like you moved around a lot, that sort of thing. Enough digital noise to look real, but not so much as to scream bait.”
“Good,” Delaney said. “We know he’s going to check for sure.”
Elvis felt his jaw tighten as he crossed his arms over his chest. “He will if he’s good.”
“Oh, he’s good,” the marshal said. “And determined.”
“When he does, I’m hoping he simply thinks you got sloppy at some point,” Blaze said. “Like the length of time since you disappeared made you complacent and you slipped up.”
Later, when Blaze retreated to a corner with his laptop to talk to Melinda, and Abe took to the porch again, Donovan right behind him. Elvis found himself alone in the living room with his thoughts and a half-cleaned handgun resting against his thigh. Delaney had decided to take a shower, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
And as he stared into the flickering flames of the fire, a prom night, which seemed a lifetime ago, came back without warning.
Her dress had been a pale blue, nothing flashy or loud, carrying a simple elegance that made his breath catch. When shemoved, it caught the light, and he remembered the way she had looked at him in the driveway before he drove them to the dance, like there was nothing the two of them couldn’t do together.
They had fantasized about getting married, talked about how many kids they wanted to have, and where they wanted to land when college was over. And it wasn’t Tupelo, Mississippi. He had even bought her a ring, which back then hid in his glove compartment, just waiting for the right moment. He couldn’t afford anything expensive, so chose a simple gold band with a small diamond he had saved for by working two jobs during the summer.
The ring still rested in his top dresser drawer, a reminder to never let himself get too attached to someone.
He finished working on his handgun as he remembered how he had felt when she left, feeling that she chose to leave without even saying goodbye, throwing away their dreams, throwing him away.
He thought that for years, which is why he ran into life’s chaos full force. He just wanted to escape that feeling.
He swallowed hard and dragged the cloth down the barrel of the gun as he pushed the jagged memory away.
Across the room, he heard the bathroom door open as Delaney stepped out, wearing his shirt and some jeans thanks to Blaze bringing their luggage from the hotel, running a towel through her hair. The morning light lit her face, and for a moment, she looked younger, like she did back then.
Her entire family had shown guts standing with her mother when Carmela Moretti stood in a courtroom somewhere fifteen years ago and sent a criminal to prison. He thought about Delaney’s father, Vincent, sitting behind her, knowing that what came next would cost them everything.
And they had done it anyway.
Elvis knew that bravery didn’t always look like combat. Sometimes it looked like average people walking into a room knowing they would not walk out the same person.
“You’re staring at me.”
Her voice pulled him back to the present and out of his thoughts. He gave a slow bob of his head, a playful smile slipping across his face. “You’re something worth staring at.”
“You look like you’re about to storm a compound,” she added, nodding toward the weapon in his hands.
He glanced down at his handgun and shrugged. “Old habits. It helps calm me.”
She crossed the room toward him, the towel dangling in her hand at her side. She watched the way he handled the firearm, her gaze lingering as his hands went through the motions. “Have you always lived with this?” she asked.
He felt his brow pinch. “With what?”
