Page 49 of Only the Hunter

“Since when does Rhodes care about my welfare?”

Gabe’s thumb moves absently against my knee—I don’t think he realizes he’s doing it. “I assumed you two had a past.”

“A past?” My voice climbs. “You thought I dated Rhodes?”

“It was one theory.”

“No.” I turn to the window, processing. I’ve had like three conversations with Rhodes—total. And only one in person. He’s at least ten years older than me. I never saw him that way. “He’s an information source.” But with another deep breath, I connect the dots. “My father invested in ARGUS years ago. He probably hired Rhodes to... What? Keep tabs on me?”

“I don’t think you can just hire Rhodes,” Gabe says carefully.

“My father can hire anyone.”

“Maybe.” His hand squeezes gently. “But I came because I wanted to. Not because anyone told me to.”

I chew on my lip, trying to think back over my conversations with Rhodes. He seemed to admire that I chose a career as a public servant. He first met with me as a favor to my dad.

“Hey,” Gabe’s low rumble once again reminds me he’s by far the most appealing man I’ve spent time with, and he’s also the only one who unnerves me by simply being. “I need you to believe me. I would’ve come no matter what.”

“Because of Scott,” I say with a slight nod.

“No.” He reaches for my hand again, and again, I don’t pull away. His palm is warm, calloused—rougher than I expected for someone who spends time at a desk. “You’re my friend too, you know.”

Friend.

“And I share Scott’s concern for you. I admire the hell out of you. You’re hunting the worst of the worst. Determined. Your career… I mean hell, you were done with law school when most of your class was graduating from undergrad. I’ve never known anyone as focused and determined as you.”

That’s not as big of a deal as he thinks. “I took all AP classes,” I say, leaving it at that, assuming he’s familiar with how those credits work if you go to an undergrad that accepts them.

“Stop it. What you’ve done is impressive.”

“And therefore you want to protect me?” It still doesn’t add up.

“Evie Thompson, you’re one of my favorites.”

Again, the prosecutor in me bares her teeth. “Please⁠—”

“I’ve known you a long time, Evie. Growing up I spent a ton of time at your house. I probably spent as much time with you as with Scott.”

“Now, that’s definitely not true.”

“Had the most meaningful conversations,” he counters. “Your brother, we had similar taste in movies. Hung out with the same crowd. But the deepest discussions I ever had with your brother revolved around the merit of a rotten tomato rating.”

I bite back a grin. He’s on the money with Scott. I love my brother, but depth isn’t his strength.

“But you. You’re the only one who ever compared The Matrix to Russia, to authoritarian governments.”

“That’s not true. There are entire blog sites dedicated to analyzing The Matrix.”

“Nope.” He snaps his fingers. “You asked why criminals always want systems? Like chains and hierarchies. Shouldn’t chaos be easier? Those were your questions.” He points at me. “We sat there debating authoritarian structures through history….or really, you gave me a history lesson.”

I have to look away, because it’s true, I am a huge nerd. “I can’t believe you remember that.”

“Of course I do.”

The cab pulls up in front of The Four Seasons. Across the way there’s an expansive view of Lake Geneva. It’s breathtaking.

Valets open both our doors and we step out.