Page 17 of Sheltering You

She’d figure out a way to help Basma on her own.

CHAPTER FOUR

Derrick watched as Jasmine stormed toward the front door, then froze. Wise woman, considering the temperature outside. It was December in Maine—not exactly evening-stroll weather.

She swiveled and headed down the hall, away from the family and toward Sam’s office and the private living area.

Derrick wandered to the foyer and stood beside the staircase, where he could intercept her if she headed for the door again, thankful for the time to figure out what to do.

He wanted to help her, of course. He’d do anything for her. But Michael had risked his life getting her out of Iraq, and the people she’d escaped were still searching for her and Leila. They were safe here in Shadow Cove. Was helping her friend really worth risking that safety?

He should talk to Michael, but Jasmine had asked him to keep what they talked about to himself. He could go against her wishes, but that would cause conflict, and if he’d learned nothing else growing up as the youngest of six hotheaded brothers, he’d learned that conflict harmed relationships, sometimes nearly irreparably.

Bryan and Grant had taught him that.

Heck, Derrick and Grant had barely had a relationship for the majority of Derrick’s life—and that had been the result of someone else’s conflict. He hoped their conversation today would help them move past that. Maybe it would.

Maybe not.

Derrick had risked a conflict that morning and lost a client.

Conflicts were like dirty bombs. They destroyed enemies and bystanders alike.

Derrick was doing everything in his power to move out of the friend zone with Jasmine—and he did not intend to move into the don’t talk to me, I can’t stand you zone.

He hated that she’d put him in this position, but she had. And the only way out of it was through conflict. Or to do what she’d asked.

Jasmine rounded the corner at the end of the hall but stopped short when she saw him. She’d slipped on her coat—a puffy thing that was probably meant to be mid-calf length but skimmed the top of her shoes. She had her purse slung over one shoulder and a set of keys dangling from the opposite hand.

He walked toward her. “You’re leaving?”

She continued toward him. “It is none of your business.”

“Are you going home?”

She lifted her chin and firmed her lips, and his heart thumped.

He had a bad feeling about her lack of answer. “Where are you going?”

“I am going to get my friend. I have no choice.”

“To Washington, DC?” When she said nothing, he clarified with “Right now. In the dark? You’re taking the car and driving ten hours? By yourself?”

“I must help⁠—”

“What did Leila say?”

Jasmine’s eye contact slipped.

“You didn’t tell her? You didn’t even…” He worked to gentle his voice. “Jasmine, what are you doing?”

“She would stop me.”

“Of course, because this… She should stop you. And… Wait a minute. You don’t even have a car. Whose keys are those?”

“Michael provided us this car.”

“Did you ask him?”