With a cocky sigh, Colt stretched his arm along the sofa back again. “Yeah, I did get the girl.”
Pope felt the corner of his mouth lift before he could stop it.
The first chuckle came from Colt and Oaks’s followed. Carson shook his head, but even he appeared amused.
Pope felt a strange shift under his ribs. Suddenly, he felt part of a group—different from the vets in the program, though no more important. He could get used to this.
Then his gaze dropped to the folder in front of him, taking in Summer’s name printed across the tab, and all lightness vanished.
This wasn’t a sweet first gig, not to him.
He set his palm flat on the folder. Whatever was following her had made its first mistake.
It stepped into Pope’s path.
* * * * *
Beanie-weenies probably wasn’t what a person made when their life started spiraling into possible stalker territory. But it was what Summer had planned, what Ben liked and what could stretch into leftovers if she added enough beans.
The pot simmered on the stove while she cut up hot dogs at the counter, listening to Ben in the living room making explosion noises with his action figures and the television playing low in the background.
The little duplex smelled like tomato sauce and onions and the lemon cleaner she used on the counters. Completely normal.
Except it wasn’t.
How had her easy life morphed into stabbed tires and mysterious groceries, or the fact that Black Heart Security apparently intended to insert themselves into her life whether she could afford them or not?
Not to mention, her chest still tightened every time she remembered Willow announcing casually to the entire table that Vander had a “Summer problem.”
If he wished things were different too, it meant she wasn’t the only one struggling to let go.
She dumped the sliced hot dogs into the pot and stirred hard enough to splash sauce up the spoon.
“Mom?” Ben called. “Can we have cheese on top?”
They had a kitchen full of food. Food she wasn’t sure she wanted to use. Not because she thought it was dangerous, but because accepting it felt like accepting a debt she never agreed to owe.
“I’ll see if we have any.”
She crossed to the refrigerator and pulled open the door, already knowing there were three different kinds of cheese inside.
Courtesy of the delivery.
Her gaze settled on the packages lined neatly on the shelf.
The groceries weren’t evidence of a threat. Not yet. For all she knew, they came from a church group, a neighbor or someone who saw a single mother struggling and wanted to help.
So why did looking at them leave such a bad taste in her mouth?
Mind made up and in hope of giving Ben something to smile about, she grabbed the cheese and attacked the package with too much force.
She was about to sprinkle cheese on top of the concoction when Granny Helen’s voice cracked through the window Summer had opened.
“I got a gun and it’s pointed at your midsection!”
Summer froze.
Ben appeared in the kitchen doorway, eyes wide.
