Page 21 of Hunt You Down

“Um, we drove straight home from the courthouse. My…” What was I supposed to say? Boyfriend was way too soon. Partner seemed even worse. “André was waiting for me outside the apartment—he flew out as a surprise. We went to dinner, walked on the river for a while, and we’ve been here ever since.”

“You didn’t see anything out of the ordinary?”

“No.”

“No sense of being watched?”

I scoffed. “I always feel like I’m being watched.”

Detective Steele turned to André. “Did you see anything odd while you were waiting outside the apartment?”

André shook his head. “Not at all.”

“Did anyone catch your attention when you were walking on the river?”

“I got a nosebleed,” I said. “Someone with a baby stopped to ask if I was okay. There were people closing the shops and going home. Aside from that, no.”

“And nothing out of place at the restaurant? Or here?”

André and I both shook our heads.

Detective Steele nodded and reached into his pocket. “If you think of anything, or see anything strange, this is my personal cell. You can reach me anytime.”

He took down the name of the restaurant, thanked us, and left.

“Are you okay?” Dylan asked me once the door clicked shut.

“I-I don’t know.” André stood behind me, and I collapsed against his chest. “I can’t go home. That’s the first place he’ll go. It’s only a matter of time before he finds me here. Even with their security. He’ll find a way to con his way in. It’s what he does”

“We’ll figure out something David,” Dylan said. “He can’t run forever.”

André spoke next. “When do you go back to work?”

“I don’t,” I confessed. “They fired me for missing too much time with court.”

“They can do that?”

“They did, and they’ll probably talk their way out of any kind of complaint. It’s not worth the fuss anyway, I wasn’t making much there.”

André took a deep breath, and I could sense him sharing a look with my brother over the top of my head, then Dylan gave André a slight nod.

“What are you two scheming?” I asked, twisting in my seat to look at André.

“Come stay with me. Just until this all blows over.”

My heart leapt into my throat. “You don’t have to do that. You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into and we’ve been a thing for like, five minutes. You’ll end up sick of me⁠—”

André silenced me with a finger under my chin, tipping my gaze up to him. “I have a penthouse apartment in downtown New Orleans, a city with a population of about 400,000 people, with the best security money can buy. Even if he could find you, good luck getting in, much less up to my floor without getting caught. I have two bedrooms, two bathrooms, an office, and a full terrace. I’m married to my job, which means that I’m hardly ever home. If you flat out don’t want to see me, you don’t have to. I can keep you safe, and keep this casual as we want, but I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t offer.”

“You really don’t have to do that…” My throat was so tight that my voice was barely a whisper.

“I know I don’t have to. I want to.” His thumb brushed along my cheekbone, where a lone traitorous tear had slipped free. “Let me keep you safe, David.”

“I called out of work tonight,” Dylan spoke up, almost as if to remind us that he was in the room. “I can take you home to get some stuff.

I looked down at my pajamas—I couldn’t leave in those.

“Did you rip any of my clothes when you tore them off last night?” I whispered to André.