“Sure.”
“Thanks.”
As he sat there waiting for the plane to deposit them safely on the ground, Evan felt eyes on him. He looked at Decker, but the guy had his head back, eyes closed. He hadn’t said a word the entire flight. Not him.
Evan glanced over to see Slade staring at him, a worried expression on his face.
Or perhaps that was discomfort that was creasing his brow.
Maybe it had something to do with the fact that Atticus was sitting beside him now, and Slade wanted to rip Evan a new one for putting him in that position.
As much as he wanted to worry about his partner’s unrequited obsession with the new guy, Evan was more concerned about the state of his friendship with Becs. It was hard to believe that a few ill-timed sentences could take them from that incredible kiss to the blizzard of the century. She was freezing him out, and he couldn’t deny that he deserved it.
He wanted to make it up to her. But how? He had no idea what would make this situation better.
He didn’t even know why it mattered to him. His interest in this woman went against every promise he’d made to himself since Gayle was murdered. He swore he wouldn’t allow himself to be truly happy until he found the bastard who killed his wife and at least seven other women that they knew of. At the very least, Evan owed her that.
It was the very reason he had joined the task force. He’d hoped to utilize their skills to hunt down the man responsible for the brutal rape and murder of young, unsuspecting women. The police and FBI had been at it for years, but based on the information he received from the friends he’d left behind in Florida, they’d gotten nowhere. The consensus was the serial murderer had gone into hiding. Or maybe he was dead.
That should’ve been good news. But for Evan, it simply meant he would never get any closure.
“Hey.” Becs’s cool fingers brushed over his wrist. “Are you okay?”
Realizing he was clutching the armrest like his life depended on it, he forced his hands to relax.
“Are you a nervous flyer?”
“What?” Evan shook his head, realizing she thought his tension had something to do with the plane landing. “No.”
“Sorry,” she whispered, pulling her hand back.
He realized he’d snapped his response. “No.” He reached over and touched her hand. “I’m sorry. I was thinking about something. I—”
Evan had no idea what he’d intended to say. But he knew one thing. If he wanted a life, any life at all, he was going to have to renew his efforts to finding that sick bastard who killed Gayle. Perhaps then he’d be capable of giving a woman like Becs everything she deserved.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Wednesday, August 10, 2022
Reese had been expecting it, so hewasn’t surprised when he woke up on Wednesday to find Brantley’s head covered with a pillow. His breathing was shallow, which signified he was in tremendous pain.
There was very little light in the room; only the glow from the front porch light breached the slats of the blinds, but he knew it was more than enough to increase the pain if Brantley were to open his eyes.
Being as quiet as he could, he got out of bed and went to the bathroom. He grabbed the bottle of pills from the medicine cabinet and shook one out into his hand. He filled the glass he kept by the sink with enough water for Brantley to down one of the pills. Last but not least, he soaked a washcloth with cold water, wrung it out, and then took everything into the bedroom.
He put his hand gently on Brantley’s shoulder, not wanting to surprise him.
“Keep your eyes closed,” he instructed as he moved the pillow.
Brantley grunted.
“Here,” he whispered. “Take this.”
Reese covered Brantley’s eyes with the washcloth and put the pill in Brantley’s mouth. He held the glass to Brantley’s lips, helping as much as possible.
Once that was done, Reese set out to take care of everything else. He closed the heavy curtains he’d hung a couple of months ago. The very curtains Brantley had made fun of him for adding. Reese had taken the good-natured ribbing just like had with all the upgrades he’d done to the house, not telling Brantley that he’d added the curtains for this reason alone.
It pained him to see Brantley in agony. Especially since there wasn’t anything anyone could do. There wasn’t a magical potion that would make a migraine go away, but being in a dark, quiet room would help some, and hopefully, the medication would do the rest.
