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“My daughter?” he asks pointedly.
Fucking Jude.
“Get in the car,” he says again, and if it’s possible, this time he sounds more pissed off. Fucking fantastic.
I toss my bag in the back of my truck and get in his car, knowing this isn’t going to be good.
It’s just him and me and his driver.
“Where to, boss?” the driver asks.
“Just drive. I’ll let you know when we’re done,” Sam tells him calmly, like he’s not about to kill me.
I guess that’s a good thing.
He pulls a folder out of his bag and tosses it my way. “Do you love my daughter, Callen?”
“What the fuck, Sam?” I do a shit job of hiding my anger. “How about you let me tell your daughter that before I tell you?”
He nods, silently assessing me, then reaches over and opens the folder, clearly pissed off at my lack of an answer.
A picture of Caitlin and me walking the streets of Chestnut Hill last night sits on top of the pile. I flip through, and the next is one of us at dinner, then us walking back to the car... and one of us this morning.
What the actual fuck?
“You’re having her followed?” I growl, not caring that this is her father or that he’s probably killed men for less. She’s going to flip her shit when she finds out.
“I’m not,” he answers calmly, and my brain fucking hurts as I try to put two and two together. But right now, it’s not equaling four.
I close the folder and toss it back to him. Over this already. “You want to spell it out for me then? Because I’m not going to stop seeing her. Not now. Not unless that’s what she wants. And maybe you should talk to her because I’m telling you that’s not what she fucking wants.”
Maybe I should be scared, but I’m not. I’m pissed.
I was ready to fight with Maddox.
I was ready for him to tell me I’m not good enough for her.
This came out of left field, and none of it’s making sense.
“If you were anyone else, I’d deal with this differently, Callen. If you were just some stupid little shit who hadn’t looked out for Caitlin her whole life, I’d force your fucking hand before I’d break it for touching what doesn’t belong to you. If you were any other dumb fuck, you wouldn’t be in this car testing my fucking patience because I wouldn’t give a single shit about removing you from her life. But you’re not anyone else. I’ve watched you grow up. I know your parents. I was at your fucking baptism. I watched the way she’s looked at you whenever you were in the same room for years. And I’ve seen the way you looked at her when you thought no one was paying attention.”
I open my mouth but shut it when Sam glares.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, especially with your reputation, but I know you. Probably better than you know yourself. Believe it or not, I’ve been you. And I know you think you’re being careful. But those pictures say otherwise. And Caitlin can’t afford that. Not right now. She can’t afford careless. She can’t afford public.”
I hold Sam’s controlled glare, refusing to back down. “I’m not trying to be a disrespectful asshole, Sam. But honest to God, I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.”
I’m not stupid, but I’m not wrapping my head around whatever he’s trying to get at either, and the sinking feeling in my gut says it’s worse than I think.
“There are things happening in this city.My fucking city, Callen. Things I’m working on. Things you can’t know about, and you can’t be involved in. Things I’m going to fix.”
He runs a hand down his face, I think disgusted with himself...for what—I have no fucking clue. But frustration and stress hang heavy in the air, hand in hand, clinging to us both.
I have no clue what I’m supposed to say or do, so I listen and try to read the situation.
Try to zero in on whatever he’s attempting to say but doing a shit job expressing.
“Are you telling me Cait’s in danger?” Sam’s face changes, and my whole fucking world stops spinning as my body goes rigid. “What the hell is going on and why doesn’t she know about it?”
