The clouds and rain paired with the blinds on Silas’ windows reminded me too much of being caged in…and Silas’ bad attitude wasn’t helping my mood.
“Hey,” Silas said, interrupting my thoughts. “Do you think you can do something for me?”
I blinked. “Sure, what?”
He handed me a letter.
“I have a brother in the Navy. He’s deployed right now. Do you think you can go get him these things, and a few extras, so we can send a care package over to him?” Silas asked.
I nodded. “Sure. I was heading over to Target anyway.”
I’d of course heard him talking about the man in the Navy.
Sterling, I think he’d said his name way.
He was a SEAL from what I’d heard through passing conversation.
“What else should I get him?” I asked. “And do you want me to go ahead and send it out today?”
He looked up distractedly from something he was reading.
It looked like a case file or something, but I’d learned not to butt into his business.
The last time I’d looked at one of his manila folders, I’d seen the gruesome carnage of a teenager that’d been hacked up with…something.
I didn’t want to know what was in those files, and I’d resigned myself to not even thinking about them.
I still wasn’t quite sure what exactly it was that he did for a living.
I knew he was a CIA operative at one point, but he didn’t really go anywhere aside from the firehouse, the Dixie Warden’s clubhouse, Halligans and Handcuffs and the Life Flight office.
“Get him some candy that won’t melt,” he offered.
“Silas?” I asked.
He looked up. “Yeah?”
His beautiful blue eyes were intoxicating.
“What is it that you do for a living?” I finally asked.
He grinned. “I’m a crime analyst. I freelance, which means I do it on my own, and I’m paid as a subcontractor for my expert opinions and analysis. I usually get my cases from the CIA and the FBI. I look for trends in criminal activity across the country, and I track them using the software program I developed. It’s a central source of criminal information for all branches of law enforcement. I track the details of crimes, so that when another similar crime occurs, we can determine if the similarities are just coincidences or the crime is actually related to other crimes. This is helpful to law enforcement in deciding if a crime is the work of a serial criminal, a copycat or an unrelated coincidence.
My mouth dropped open, and I could do nothing but stare at him.
“You’re shitting me.”
He shook his head. “No. What do you think I did?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t realize you did something so specific. But you always have these,” I said, indicating to the file folder with a long finger. “I guess I just thought you were still kind of in the CIA, but just didn’t get any calls.”
He grinned. “All you had to do was ask.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’ll remember that next time.”
Walking over to him after picking up my purse, I pressed my lips against his.
“I have to go see my parents after work today. I saw my mom leaving this morning when I went to get the paper. She’s pissed, I better head it off before it gets too complicated.”
He winked and pressed his lips against mine again.
“You know your mom and me…we never had anything. It was just two lonely people spending time with each other,” he told me, holding his big hand at the back of my head so I couldn’t back away.
I blinked. “Actually, no, I didn’t know that. I’ve wondered, though.”
He shook his head, and a smile ticked up the corner of his mouth. “There you go again. Darlin’, all you gotta do is ask me whatever it is that you wanna know.”
I shrugged. “Oops.”
Placing another kiss on my mouth, he gave me a slap on the ass and said, “Go on, before you’re late.”
I looked down at my watch.
Shit.
I was going to be late if I didn’t go now.
“Okay, I’ll call you around lunchtime to see if you want anything,” I said.
With one last kiss on the lips, I walked out the front door of Silas’ place.
I was taking Silas’ truck because he hated my car, so I bypassed mine and went straight to his pretty black Dodge Ram.
Not that I was complaining. I loved his truck.
And I loved that he wanted me safe, which was why I hadn’t driven my car in well over a week.
Hell, all of my stuff was even in his truck.
You know, those little things that everyone leaves in their vehicles?
Phone charger. Chap Stick.
Tampons.
I looked in my rearview mirror to see the familiar silhouette of a motorcycle behind me.
That wasn’t new.
I’d had them following me around for a while now, courtesy of Silas.
He thought that Shovel would try to come after me, and who was I to argue? I didn’t know the man, so I had to trust that Silas knew what he was talking about.
And deal with the fact that a man followed me everywhere I went twenty-four seven.
Turning my eyes back to the road, I swung the huge beast into Target’s parking lot and parked at the back of the lot.