Page 35 of Eyes in the Shadows

“What? Why?”

I glance at her with a raised brow. Why? She can’t be serious. Like I’d let her go home. Like I’m ever fucking letting her out of my sight again. “He wasn’t really a cop.”

“Yeah, no shit!”

“He knew where you live and he was following you, which means they know you’re involved, so you’re not safe. You need to come with me,” I say slowly, and watch as the understanding settles across her face. It spreads into dread and fear a second later, and she nods urgently at me.

Is it sick that part of me thrills that she’s got no other options now? That she’s finally forced to submit to the inevitability of this—us. Because she’d finally reached out, finally texted me, finally opened that door. But now I get to expedite this.

Because I’ve been craving her like an addict in need of a fix. Slow and indirect is going, well… it’s too damn slow and indirect. I need all of her, as fast as I can get it.

13

Mac

The casual use of the word “we,” like we’re in this together

She follows meekly, standing back and watching silently as I toss her bag into the trunk and go around to open the passenger door for her. I don’t miss the way she reacts with surprise to the gesture.

When I climb into the driver’s seat, I’m gratified to see that she’s already buckled in. But she’s reaching into her pocket and I spot the top of the screen as it lights up. “Don’t make me take that from you,” I warn. “Leave it in your pocket, at least for now, okay?”

She frowns at me, but pushes the phone back where it was and rests her hands on her thighs.

I’m not trying to be a controlling asshole, but until we can talk and she understands what kind of danger she really is in, I need her to find another way to calm that anxiety than scrolling through her phone. It’s not that I don’t trust her, she just doesn’t know what any of this means for her going forward. What she can and can’t do.

“What’s going on?” she asks, like she’s been saving it for a moment alone. “What did you mean by they know I’m involved? Who arethey? What am I involved in?”

“Just give me two minutes, darlin’. I’m going to call someone to take care of that guy, and it’ll be better if he doesn’t know anything about you. Okay?” I trust Felix, but only the smallest bit further than I can throw him. And that’s nowhere near how close I’d let him come to my girl.

She nods, taking the message to keep silent. As I settle into my seat, I pull the dead man’s gun from my waistband and lean across her to shove it in the glovecompartment. Then I throw the car into reverse and pull out my phone. As I start for the home base, I speed dial my fixer.

“Mac, my man,” Felix greets me and I can hear the smile in his voice. “How’s one of my favorite customers?”

“About to become better.”

“All business, huh? Fine by me. Whatchu need,amigo?”

“I need a discreet rush on a cold one.” I rattle off the address of the gym as we pull into the main street and start making our way out of the city. I keep Eleanor in my periphery and one eye on the rearview to make sure we’re not being followed, which doesn’t leave a lot to pay attention to the road. Good thing driving under pressure is one of my skills.

“Ladies locker 28, as of,” I check my watch, never trusting the clock on a dash, “11 minutes ago. He’s a big fucker, so send guys. And I want theojos, comprende?”

Felix whistles in respect—he always has appreciated a bit of drama, so a request to bring me the eyes of a dead man is right up his alley. “What’d he do to you?”

“Looked at someone he shouldn’t have.”

“Shiiit. Like, a lady someone?”

Appreciates drama was perhaps too generous. Fucking nosy is more like it.

“Just send me a bill,” I grit out through my teeth.

“Can do,chico. It’s gonna be quite the roll.”

“I only pay for the best,” I remind him. Felix and his team are quick, quiet and careful. And he’s got enough powerful people in his pocket for one hell of a contingency plan. He takes his payments in money or I-O-U’s, and the more powerful and well-connected the client, the less physical currency they pay for Felix’s services. I prefer cash; I’ve got plenty and I’m not a fan of owing favors.

I hang up, then hang a left at the light that indicates we’ve officially left city limits. The coast is clear—we’re not being followed.

“Okay,” I tell her. “Here’s a CliffsNotes to save us some back and forth. I’ll answer whatever you still got after. Sound good?”

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