Page 94 of Triggered By Love
“You can do that just as well in my apartment.” Damon hadn’t acknowledged Jason’s presence yet. “I have internet, an extra computer, and a printer.”
“I have the detective here.” Avery wasn’t sure which was the lesser of two evils. Having her brother exposed to Jason’s line of questioning or having her brother’s presence stymie Jason’s interrogation.
Knowing Jason, it wouldn’t matter. He’d bullheadedly stick it to her—yikes, he would stick “that” to her too. Her consternation must have registered, because Damon’s gaze pinpointed Jason. “You sticking by her side?”
Jason smoothly patted his sidearm. “Armed and ready to protect.”
His answer seemed to satisfy her brother who gave her a hug and patted her shoulder. “I’ll let Chase know you’re here so he can get the cameras put up.”
“No way. Not inside my apartment.” Avery stood firm. “He’s the reason I turned off my tracker app. In fact, tell him I turned off location services period.”
“It’s for your own safety.”
Now that she had her own personal protector, she could afford to swagger her nonexistent bravado. Since Brando’s shooting, she’d been a scared kitty, and they’d taken advantage, jumping through hoops to keep her safe and sequestered.
Bravely, or so she thought, she jutted her chin at her domineering twin. “I won’t trade freedom for security. You know that. It’s what Dad believes and what he’s running on. What applies to you boys applies to me.”
“Hold it there,” Damon disagreed. “We all have concealed carry permits.”
“I have him.” Avery dragged Jason into her apartment. “Detective Burnett and I have a lot of work, so I’ll catch you later.”
“He’s not staying in with you.” Damon refused to budge from his position.
“No, but he can keep watch here while I sleep in your man cave. Better put clean sheets on the sectional. Oh, and tell Chase to take a shower. He’s not in the field anymore.”
Her oldest brother was an ex-Marine who led big game hunts in the winter while driving her and their parents crazy in the summer. He didn’t believe in safaris or taking people into jungles for the hunt, preferring the badlands and big sky of the Northwest Mountain states.
“He doesn’t listen to anyone, least of all us.” Damon had a point. Chase called them “baby guys,” because there was a five-year gap between the eldest three: Chase, Alex, and Stone and her, Damon, and Harper.
“I’ll deal with him,” Jason said in a growly voice. “In fact, I’d like to ask him a few questions. Since he’s the oldest and he works closely with your parents, he should have knowledge about their enemies. Tell him to gather a list of people your parents socialize with, their associates, and any former military who had grudges against your dad. They could be targeting Avery because of your father running for Congress. Chase could chase all of this down.”
Damon huffed and whirled around, clearly not willing to take orders from Jason. He flashed Avery a forced smile. “I’m up all night too. If you want a break, give me a holler.”
As soon as Damon exited, Jason gripped Avery with both his gaze and his hands. “Who’s the man in the painting?”
The moment she dreaded. Hopefully, Damon was out of earshot. She bolted her door and tried to keep her jumpy heart still. “Can I offer you coffee first? We’re going to be up all night.”
“Who is he? A boyfriend? Ivanna’s or yours?”
Ignoring him, she headed for the kitchen, but of course, he followed.
“Ave, this is serious. You recognized the man in the painting. Are you involved with him?”
“Such a one-track mind.” For some reason, she enjoyed wounding his pride. Did he think he was in the running for being involved with her?
“The time for sparring or whatever it is you’re doing is over. Ivanna is hurt. An attempt was made on your life. I know your knee-jerk response is to rebel against your overprotective brothers, but you need to take this seriously.”
She dropped the coffee canister. It popped open and spilled beans all over the floor. Frustrated, she pounded the kitchen counter. “Don’t you know I’m barely it holding together? You have no idea how stressful it is to be on guard twenty-four seven. Sometimes, you just get worn out and you don’t care anymore.”
“But you do care about Ivanna, don’t you?”
“Of course, I do. If it were only me, I might just give up.” Her shoulders drooped and instead of picking up the spilled coffee beans, she covered her face. She inhaled deeply to keep from shuddering, but it didn’t work. She was weak, and no amount of acting tough, defying her brothers, or hard flirting with the cop could cover the dread looming over her.
In less than a week, it would be Brando’s first anniversary dead.
She was barely aware of a broom sweeping across the floor. The swish was strangely lulling.
“I came across too hard,” a voice, strangely contrite, murmured in the background. “Let me clean this up while you tell me who you think Ivanna’s been painting.”
