Page 11 of A Soldier's Destiny
Chapter 4
“Are you sure you’re not too tired to drive?”
“I’m fine. Seriously. It’s not that far to the bakery. I don’t sleep all that well anyway.” He bet she didn’t. She was probably suffering from PTSD and didn’t realize it.
“I’m just trying to do my job. You’re not going to make this easy, are you?”
“Why do you say that?” Her concentration never deviated from the road, probably trying to avoid looking at him. Seeing him had probably triggered a memory she couldn’t quite place.
“Just a feeling. I’ve survived many missions by trusting my gut.”
“Until the last one? The scar on your cheek doesn’t look like it’s been there too long, and you’re limping.”
He was impressed, he barely limped anymore, although the muscles were still weak, but she’d still managed to pick up on it. The scar was an easy guess. It would take another year before it faded enough that it didn’t stand out. If she thought that looked fresh, it was good she couldn’t see his leg.
“My last mission went to hell before our team realized it. But bad intel is part of the job.”
“Do you miss it? Ten years is a long time.”
“Yes and no. I miss my team, they were more like family than anything else. And I miss feeling like I’m doing something important. But it was time to move on. Besides my injury, my heart wasn’t in it anymore.”
“Oh.” He’d spent a lot of time reading people, it was part of what had made him good at his job. He knew without a doubt she wanted to ask him why, but she didn’t. It was a relief since he wouldn’t have known what to tell her. In the last few minutes, he’d already shared more with her than he had with anyone else, even most of his team. He was going to have to watch himself, she was too easy to talk to. He needed to focus. Chase was counting on him, and if Lily and Alex were any indication so was the rest of the town. Maybe once he was assured she was safe, he could see if there was something more between them.
As she parked the van in the spot marked “Reserved for Prince’s Patisserie,” in the rear lot of the building, his senses were on high alert. There was something off and he learned long ago not to ignore his instincts.
“Why are we here? I thought you didn’t have to be at work until two a.m.?”
“I don’t but I live upstairs. I bought the building when I decided to open the patisserie. I figured why should I live outside of town when I could live upstairs. It gives me an extra hour of sleep every night.”
“Steele conveniently forgot to mention that.”
“Don’t worry, it’s not as small as it looks. It’s a three bedroom apartment, so you will have your own space. I know it’s kind of awkward but…”
“Hey, don’t worry about me. I’m used to sleeping wherever I happen to be—jungle, desert, cave—so no big deal.”
“I want to check it out first. Stay here and keep the doors locked.” When she didn’t answer, he added, “Okay?” This didn’t bode well if she was going to fight him every step of the way. How was he supposed to keep her safe?
After an exaggerated sigh, she answered. “Okay. This is the key to the apartment.” She handed him her key ring with one key separated out. “It’s the door next to the back door of the bakery.”
“Got it. Be right back.”
Raptor would have preferred to have done this in daylight but surveilling in darkness wasn’t a problem. He’d left his pack in the van, but he had his Glock. Armed and ready, he checked out the rest of the parking lot and then approached the door. One key, one lock, no deadbolt. Willow Haven was small but not without crime, and no one thought that she should have a deadbolt at least? It would be the first thing on his list once the hardware store opened. He could have pushed his way in without any effort at all.
A glance toward the van verified that she was still inside. Stepping through the doorway he shouldn’t have been surprised it was pitch-black, but he was anyway. He’d expected some light in the hallway. Seriously? She was just asking for trouble. He pulled out the small flashlight he was never without and found the switch, which did jack shit when he flipped it on. Of course. Rolling his eyes for the second time in less than five minutes, he wondered what he’d find at the top of the stairs.
The door didn’t have a lock at all. What was wrong with this woman? Tomorrow was going to be a busy day, and if he had to keep an eye on her, he was probably going to have to call in reinforcements.
At least, when he flipped the switch inside her apartment the light came on. It smelled like sugar and cinnamon, and he wondered if it was from the bakery downstairs. Nothing was out of place as he went from room to room, opening all the doors until he was satisfied it was all clear.
He’d just finished his walk through and was in the living room as she stepped into the apartment.
“Is it safe?”
“I thought we agreed you’d stay in the van until I came back and got you.”
“We did sort of. I don’t like being told what to do and I got tired of waiting. I knew it would be fine.”
“Listen, Angel, I know you’re not thrilled about having a bodyguard, but you have one. That means you’ll listen to me so I can make sure you’re safe. Got it?”
