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“We don’t really have the luxury of assuming anything’s a coincidence right now.”
We don’t.
She’s quiet, looking out the window. Holding something back from me.
“What is it?”
“It’s just… well, there were flowers at work. I teach kickboxing classes to little kids, and before I left the other night, I saw some. It’s probably not related, though.”
“Is your studio near a florist or a delivery shop or a supermarket that might sell flowers?”
“No.”
“Fuck going home,” I tell her, as I turn to take the entrance to the highway. “You’ll come back to my place.” To my home, the goddamn fortress, where I’ve got my own army of trained soldiers who aren’t afraid of combat.
She draws in a breath then releases it slowly, but she doesn’t respond at first.
“I’m not giving you a choice in this. I’m?—”
“Giving me a choice or I walk.” I feel my brows snap together, but before I can respond, she continues. “I appreciate your concern. But I’m fully capable of taking care of myself.”
“I thought we already had this discussion this morning, and that conversation ended with me on top of you.”
Her hands clench into fists, but I don’t fucking care. My sister’s with God-knows-who, I’ve got no leads whatsoever on whateverthe fuck is going on, I just put a bullet through a man’s skull, and now she thinks she has a choice in this.
“You may have noticed, Miss Price, that my entire staff resides at my house.”
“I have.” She frowns in a way that looks almost like a pout. “It’s odd and borderline cultish.”
I won’t let her get a rise out of me.
“I have my reasons. Scattering my employees and the contractors that work for me would be a terrible decision, as my necessary resources would be dispersed and weakened. I provide ample accommodations and security.”
“Right. But what you may not have noticed is that the only female in your residence is an elderly, likely married woman.”
“And the doctor.”
“Oh wow. You hired a female doctor? How modern of you.”
There’s a low rumble in the truck I don’t realize is my own damn growl at first.
“I’m not offering for you to live with me, Miss Price.” I huff out a humorless laugh. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
She mutters something under her breath.
“What’s that?”
She doesn’t respond.
Her stomach growls, loud and clear. Now that I understand. “You’re hungry. At least come and get something to eat before you go home.”
“I’m good, thanks. I’ve got plenty of food at my house.”
“Are you hungry or not?”
“Starving, but legitimate hunger’s good for the soul. I’ll somehow make it this time.”
Stubborn. So goddamn stubborn. I don’t miss the way she sits as far away from me as she can, as if somehow forming a physical distance will keep her safe.
