Page 15 of The Pretenders of Copper County
“Escaped,” I corrected, lifting my chin, because if I was going to be punished, I at least wanted it known that I’d made it out using my smarts and survival instincts, which were fearsome and finely honed, despite what Uncle Danny thought, and despite the fact that my kidnapper wasn’t a particularly competent?—
“The whole point of protective custody is tonotescape!” Reed exploded. “Jesus. You might be the worst protectee I’ve ever worked with.”
I gaped at him. “Protective custody? P-protectee? But I’m not?—”
“Yes, you fucking are, at least until your uncle’s testified as part of his plea deal. ‘Chris is scary,’ Ernie said. ‘Chris is a weapons expert.’ Nobody said, ‘Chris is foolish enough to climb out a fucking window and practically beg to be captured by—’Shit,” he broke off with a shake of his head. “I’m not discussing this out here when I don’t have a weapon or a clear sight line or—” Reed hitched up his towel. “—pants! Get in the house.” He turned and stabbed a finger at the unmistakably pink building beside us. “Now.”
“W-weapons expert? But I’m not… Oh.” My stomach clenched. “Oh, no.”
“I swear to God, Chris.” Reed’s towel slipped an inch, and he grabbed it with both hands. “Now,” he roared, so loud Kenny winced.
“I guess I could call the police,” Kenny offered reluctantly. “If you think he’s, like, going to kill you, or?—”
“Kill him?” Reed snorted. “At this point, I feel like I’m trying to keep him from accidentally killing himself.”
“Thank you anyway, Kenny,” I said in a low voice, shoulders sinking along with my spirits. “But don’t do anything to endanger your grandmother’s garden. Besides, I think I know what happened here, and it’s all a terrible misunderstanding.” I patted his hand. “Thank you for your kindness.”
“If you need anything, Superdude, you come right back!” Kenny said as I turned to follow Reed. “Andyou—” He tried and mostly failed to focus his bleary eyes on Reed. “—be nice to him, you hear? Or I’m gonna tell my gran.”
“Fucking Christ,” Reed muttered under his breath. He gave me a none-too-gentle nudge, so I hiked up my borrowed pants and trudged obediently through the field of flamingoes toward the front door he’d left hanging open.
It was strange and wrong and maybe a little pathetic, I decided as I reluctantly marched up the front steps with Reed on my heels, that I dreaded going inside more now than I had the first time. But, in retrospect, things had been really straightforward, back when I’d thought Reed had kidnapped me.
I realized the truth was far more hecking complicated… and more embarrassing, when I hadn’t thought I couldgetmore embarrassed.
Reed had taken the wrong Chris.
CHAPTER FOUR
REED
The man hadno sense of self-preservation. That was the only explanation.
Admittedly, he hadn’t killed himself making it down the trellis—a trellis someone should have noticed before approving this safe house, which was going on my long list of complaints to Janissey, along with the doomsday prepper supply of soup (and only soup), the eye-searing paint job, the interior and exterior flocks of birds, and the utter lack of Division-monitored security alarms on the entry points. But the very fact that he’d ventured out on his own and tried to contact someone was enough to have me seeing red.
I forced myself not to stare at his pert little ass swaying in my too-big sweatpants as he slogged dejectedly up the stairs past a faded wallpaper border of ducks marching in bonnets. He didn’t seem angry so much as honest-to-God disappointed that his escape to stoner-land next door had been cut short.
Escape, I scoffed to myself, remembering how proud and defiant he’d lookedwhen he said the word, big eyes glinting behind his glasses in the glow of the streetlight. I pushed down an instinctive desire to clarify that if I’d actually been trying to keep him in, the man’s ass wouldn’t have made it two centimeters out the door, no matter how hard he tried.
Against my will, my eyes slipped to that ass, which was tantalizingly close to my face when he hesitated at the top of the stairs, but I forced myself to blink away. He had me on the knife edge between wanting to hold him down so I could throttle him… and wanting to pin him down for a very different reason.
Not that I was actually going to do either.
I was a freaking professional, I reminded myself as I hitched up my slipping towel.
“To the right again,” I prompted once he reached the top.
Chris entered the small bedroom and sat down on the mattress in defeat.
“Look, I’m sorry, Mr. Sunday, but there’s been a giant misunderstanding,” he began. He stared at his ragged and dirty fingernails, and my eyes jumped to the still-open window and the broken pieces of trellis sticking out from the frame.
I quickly stepped over to shove the window closed and lock it again.
“If you meanyoumisunderstanding that you were supposed to stay here, then yes, I agree,” I snapped. “What the hell were you doing?”
“Well.” Chris’s chin went suspiciously wobbly, but he tried his best to firm it and glare up at me. “I assumed, as anyone would, that you were trying to kidnap me?—”
“You…” I opened my mouth. I closed it again. “What? Why?”
