Kat nodded in feigned acquiescence and glanced from under her lashes at the locker holding her purse.
“Don’t even think about it, kitten.” Her gaze snapped up. “I know what you’re thinking, but I’m not letting you get outta this. If you get an infection, go septic, and die because of my shitty doctoring skills, the guilt will kill me. And you don’t wanna be responsible for my death now, do you?”
His half smile said he was joking, but his eyes were dead serious. Though he had no reason, it was obvious he felt responsible for her and didn’t trust her not to leave. Lack of trust from the opposite sex was something she was very accustomed to. She tried to ignore the disappointment that he was no different than any other man after all.
Even if his assumption was accurate.
She needed to calculate her options. If she went with him, her plan would be delayed by a few hours and would probably be more difficult, but not necessarily impossible. If she didn’t go with him, then she’d have more time to get as far away as possible before taking shelter at dawn. But, if her hand did get infected, she’d have to go to a hospital for treatment, in which case she might as well leave a trail of breadcrumbs for Sicoli to find her.
Kat hopped off the desk and crossed to where the employee lockers stood to the side of the door. She grabbed her knitted hobo purse and slung the long strap over her opposite shoulder, then tossed him her keys. Catching them in one hand, Irish studied her for a few seconds.
“What?” she asked a little testily. “Now I can’t go anywhere until you get back.”
Closing the few feet between them, he placed the keys against her un-bandaged palm and closed her fingers over them. “I’ll be back in five.”
He trusted her? Kat couldn’t remember anyone other than Nessie ever trusting her before. Staring at the keys in her hand, she felt something tighten in her chest.
“Hey, Irish?”
“Yeah?”
“If you want…” Before she could change her mind, she looked into his deep blue eyes, clutched her hope that this man could be trusted with a death grip, and bit the bullet. “You can call me Kat.”
He canted his head slightly. “As in the adult version of kitten?”
That made her smile. A little. “As in a shortened version of Katherine. With a K.”
Bringing one hand up, he stroked his thumb along her jawline for the briefest of moments. “I’ll be back in five…Kat.” Then he turned and walked out of the office, closing the door behind him.
Chapter Five
By the time they left the ER, it was after three in the morning. Kat had been petrified in the hospital, though she managed to do a pretty good job hiding it. When the nurse called her name to head back for her stitches, Aiden casually offered to go back with her so she “had some company.” The relief that flooded her eyes before she could feign indifference with a shrug—something he was beginning to realize she did often—spoke volumes.
She’d done pretty well, all things considered. Though he was pretty sure his hand would disagree. If she’d squeezed it any harder he would’ve been sticking around to get it set in a cast. But ten minutes and twelve stitches later, exhaustion finally beat out anxiety.
Or so he’d thought.
She may have relaxed somewhat while they listened to the nurse go through after-care instructions and waited to be released, but as soon as they stepped foot outside those hospital walls, her entire demeanor changed. Her back muscles strung taut under his hand where he guided her across the parking lot. Though she tried to be subtle, he could tell she was scanning the area for something, or someone. And when a nearby car alarm went off, she nearly jumped out of her skin.
If her skittish behavior at work had been for fear Mullineaux would return, then there’d be no reason for her to still be anxious. Not to mention his gut was shooting up warning flares. He could feel the eyes on him like a scratchy tag on the back of his neck.
But who was doing the watching? And why?
They pulled out of the hospital parking lot and hadn’t gone very far before his suspicions were validated in the form of a tail. And not the furry kind.
“What kind of trouble are you in?”
She stopped biting her nails and cut him a sidelong glance from the passenger seat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Cut the shit, Kat. You’ve been acting nervous all night. I wanna help you, but I can’t do that if you don’t tell me what’s going on.”
She turned in her seat, putting her in the corner of the seat back and the door, and crossed her arms over her chest. “You don’t think last night is reason enough to be a little off my game today?”