Page 39 of The Reluctant Hero

So, the names in the letters do mean something—just not to me. I would ask about it, but I’d prefer to have less drama in my life.

“The names mean something to you?” I press with narrowed eyes. “Really?”

His raised brow of insolence confirms it.

My excitement is undeniable. It seems to make him a little scared. His brow has dropped into a frown.

I could hand over the letters to him, minus the photos, and wash my hands of it all. It’s almost too good to be true!

I try to face him but the guy won’t let me go. I end up flapping my hands around earnestly instead. I can’t wait to get rid of this crap.

“I have no idea what they mean. I recognized the names from these weird letters I’ve been getting. There are more of them but those are the names I recognized because they’re soweird. And Loser’s name is all over the paperwork for each of them.”

“You mean Justin Blake?” He raises a mocking eyebrow. “Yourhusband?”

The icy death tone brings on a hardening of his eyes, and his lips flatten out. My reaction isn't much better. All my excitement falls apart with a sharp cracking sound in my mind.

“Don’t remind me or I’ll puke on you,” I sneer back, surprising him into relaxing his facial expression again. “You won’t mention that cheating motherfucker again, got it,pookie? Yeah, I saw his name, but then I saw the name from the first letter right under it, and I thought, what the hell? It was a word search puzzle of fuckery.”

“What letters, darlin’?” The scruffy guy asks softly. He’s perfectly content using me as a teddy bear while he eyes me in concern.

I grit my teeth in frustration. I’m pretty sure they won’t believe me, but I’ll try anyway.

“Somebody keeps putting letters in my mailbox with one typed-up name in each envelope. Seeing the names on the files that got dropped was the first time I had any kind of connection between them.”

“How odd,” Mr. Matthias mocks. I knew they wouldn’t believe me, but the proof in my face pisses me off.

“No, it’s messed up,” I glare at him while I flip him off. “If it means something to you, you can have the damn things. I don’t have time for stupid cryptic messages. If I get any more, I’ll drop them off with Harriette. Problem solved.”

“They’re breaking into your mailbox? Or mailing them?” The giant guard asks as his menacing glare deepens. I blink at the harsh rumble of his voice. He sounds like he calmly sits down to a breakfast of rocks every morning and eats it with a smile. It somehow puts a damper on my building rage. At least he’swilling to pretend I’m not lying. My middle finger drops out of sight quickly.

“Breaking in, I guess. They don’t have postage or a return address. And anybody could open the box with force and a screwdriver. It’s creepy as hell and you can have that bad juju all to yourselves. I’ll put a note up with a forwarding address for you instead. You can start your own mystery team and I can finally open my box like a normal person instead of the bomb squad version.”

Mr. Matthias eyes me with a frown and then demands, “Show me one.”

I don’t like the tone. It makes me want to kick him out, not that any of them would leave. I console myself with the thought that I’ll no longer have to deal with this. He’s rich and has two to four lackeys. He’s got this under control.

I raise a brow and look at the scruffy guy. He hasn’t looked away from my profile the entire time, and his affectionate expression throws me off.

“Uh, you missed your cue. This is when you let me go so I can grab them, and you can all leave like the smug assholes you are.”

His lips quirk up in a grin, and he slowly draws his arms away. I pretend like I don’t miss the feeling of him against me and go to the drawer. A little shuffling leaves the photos and smaller envelopes behind, and I start piling up the names.

The big guy takes a few of them and starts handing them out after he looks. He even picks up the manilla envelopes to verify my story. I cross my arms and watch them go grim over the proof. I don’t know what it means, but I’m hoping now that they have what they want, they’ll leave.

The door flies open, and Manny walks in with a huge grin. He stops when he sees the three men turn to face him. Ienjoy watching his face turn a little ashen at the united front of frowning muscle blocking him from me.

“It’s called knocking, fucker,” I remind him dryly. “Have some class.”

Manny’s stance tenses as he takes in each man in front of me. Is he going to protect me? I knew he was sweet in there somewhere.

“Is everything okay, Jeff?” He lowers his voice into a gruff tone that sounds really fake.

“Yeah,” I lean around people to see him better. “You can turn guard mode off.”

“If they didn’t look so fucking rich, I’d think they were robbing you.” I expect him to be laughing when he says it but the teen sounds deadly serious.

I think fast to defuse the situation, unsure why Manny is suddenly so pissed off. Yeah, they look intimidating, but I don’t think they’re here to hurt anyone.

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