Rojas waited. They’d all sent similarly harmless texts, messages, and various electronic communications in the past. Worded properly, such a communication could be completely overlooked when taken out of context. And they were meant to be. It was the context they’d been trained to look for in the right circumstances.
“You think someone’s looking for her.” More fishing. It was Forte’s way, and Rojas didn’t mind at the moment. Helped him get his thoughts straight.
“She went paler than a ghost when she got it. Thought she was going to pass out right there in the kennels. Souze tuned into her reaction from three kennels down.” Rojas closed his mouth as his temper started to heat his words. He took another mouthful of frozen yogurt.
His temper needed to be kept cool anywhere near Boom. Asleep or not, she could wake at any moment, and she deserved a dad with his own issues under control. He still struggled with keeping his calm in public, crowded places, but here at home he could keep his shit together. This was a controlled environment. Secure. Safe.
“Yeah? Souze?” Forte sounded surprised. “Whole reason we didn’t place him along with the other two was because he didn’t take well to any of the potential handlers. That dog doesn’t warm up to anybody.”
Rojas didn’t blame him. The dog in question didn’t miss much of anything, true, but he also didn’t spare strangers more than the amount of attention it took to warn them away usually. For Souze to react to Elisa’s fear, it had to be unusual.
“If we make some assumptions…” And Forte made them all the time, though they were more like educated guesses. But it made him excellent in the field, able to anticipate and plan for unusual circumstances that might otherwise catch a team by surprise in a very bad way. “We’re figuring she’s got unwanted attention to deal with and a need to stay hard to find. Could be an issue with authorities or a stalker. I’m thinking the latter more than the former, though. She didn’t seem the type to participate in illegal activities.”
Forte wiggled his eyebrows.
Rojas barked out a laugh and nodded. Elisa Hall did not have a good poker face. Every thought showed up on her expressive face, and it was fascinating to watch. It also made her a seriously bad liar. “She seemed relieved to hide out at Revolution once she got over a hefty fear of strangers.”
And she hadn’t flinched at the idea of the police showing up when he’d warned her about tripping the security alarms. If anything, she’d filed the bit of information away as if it could be used in the future, like a lifeline or an escape route.
“Gary and Greg are good with twitchy personalities,” Forte said approvingly.
Forte went over to train at Revolution on occasion. Not as much as Rojas did when he was up to dealing with people. Actually, the training helped take the edge off his anxiety, so Rojas tried to get there at least once a week. Sparring with some of the better martial artists in the smaller, private sessions helped him work off tension.
But neither Forte nor Rojas was good with the shyer students normally. The ones who came for self-defense too late and already had the bruised look of someone irreparably harmed. Those people generally had learned the hard way to seek out training or had been recommended to self-defense as a form of therapy after a traumatic experience. It was a good way to build up confidence, whether it hadn’t yet been gained or had been taken away. Gary and Greg worked with them, coaxed back their confidence, helped them rebuild some of what they’d lost.
It was why he’d thought to take Elisa to them in the first place. She wasn’t as bad as some, but she had the look.
“Yeah. Not sure if she’ll stay. She’s got a serious chip on her shoulder about accepting help. She might not be around tomorrow.” And normally, he’d wish a person well if they came and went so quickly. He wasn’t generally one to get attached, not even to the few women he’d dated in the few years he’d been living here.
Serena was his focus. His daughter. Boom.
“But you decided to give her a reason.” Forte straightened to a more upright sitting position and placed the half-finished beer bottle on the coffee table. “You’ve got a soft spot for the ones like her.”
“Not sure I know what you mean.” Only he did. He and Forte had built a lot of history over the years, first in the military and then back here in the States.
“Doesn’t matter if it’s a woman or a dog or a green recruit, you step up to give the rescued ones an extra chance or three.” Forte wagged his finger at Rojas. “It got you into trouble when we were deployed.”
And back at home, too. He’d given his ex-wife a few chances too many even after she’d presented him with divorce papers and she’d gone down a slippery slope. By the time he’d realized she’d gotten too entrenched in her painkiller addictions it was too late. She’d died while he was on the way back to home soil. He hadn’t been able to do anything but comfort his daughter when he’d returned, and fight for custody of her when his ex-wife’s parents tried to claim he was unfit to raise her.