Page 71 of Once Removed (Blackhawk Security)

Chapter 22

Lainey slumped against the front seat of Brett’s truck, feeling as if every bone in her body had turned to water. It was actually painful to turn her head and study Brody. “How did you do that?” she asked as the tires rumbled against the pavement.

“Do what?” he asked, glancing at her.

“Lasso Larsen.” She wrapped her arms around herself, the vision of Brody twirling the rope burned into her brain. She’d been afraid he’d miss Larsen. That Larsen would see or feel the rope, or catch her looking over his shoulder. One slash of his knife, and she’d be dead.

Taking a shaky breath, Lainey brushed her hand over her throat. “I saw you throw the rope, and it landed exactly where it needed to be. You had him in complete control. Weren’t you… weren’t you taking a huge chance?”

Brody stared at the road again, his jaw clenched. “Yeah, I was taking a chance, but I was pretty sure I could put the rope where I wanted it. I practiced doing exactly that for hours as a teen. While on a moving horse.” He reached for her hand, and she slowly pressed her palm in his.

When Brody simply held his palm against hers, Lainey twined their fingers together. Clung to him. Art Larsen had been wild. Desperate. She’d seen it in his eyes -- he’d have killed her without a second thought.

Having that knife at her throat made her and Brody’s argument seem petty. Insignificant. Yes, they had to talk. Figure out how to communicate clearly. How to share painful memories. But as long as they were both alive, they could work out their differences. That knife had opened her eyes to what was important.

“I was so scared,” she whispered, unsure if Brody could hear her over the hum of the tires on the pavement.

“I knew you were. I was terrified, too,” he said, his hand tightening on hers. She felt him glance at her. “Puts a lot of things in perspective.”

“Yeah. It does,” she murmured.

They didn’t speak again until they reached Helena. At the outskirts of the city, Brody untwined their fingers and put his hand back on the steering wheel. “Do you have Ashley’s address?” he asked, his voice matter-of-fact. Business as usual.

Taking a deep breath, hoping their relationship wasn’t back to cool and guarded, she wiggled her phone. “Put it on my mapping app,” she said, naming the street. “You know how to find it, or do you need the map?”

“I know where that street is,” he said, turning a corner. “I’ll need the number, though.”

“It’s 1512,” she said.

“Got it.”

In less than ten minutes, Brody turned onto Ashley’s street. Lainey leaned forward, looking for the house where she’d dropped off Phoebe’s things yesterday. “There,” she said. “The red brick house with the mums in the front yard.”

Brody steered the car to the curb, and they both got out. Lainey glanced at him, surprised he hadn’t waited in the truck. He shot her an incredulous look. “You thought I was gonna sit in the truck and let you walk up to that door alone?” He shook his head. “No way.”

“Art’s in custody,” she said. “We’re safe.”

“We’re not safe until Sheriff Jacobs tells us that Art was working alone and there’s no one else involved in this,” Brody said, staring down at her. “So get used to an escort. Both you and Phoebe.”

Lainey held up her hands. “Wasn’t going to argue with you.” She slanted him a look. Took a deep breath. “I feel safer with you.”

“Good,” he said. “’Cause you’re stuck with me.”

‘Stuck with me’ made it sound as if he’d dump her when he was sure it was safe. Was that his plan?

She wasn’t going to ask him -- she didn’t want to know the answer. Instead, she jammed her finger against the doorbell and listened to it chime inside the house.

Moments later, Ashley’s mom pulled open the door. “Lainey. Come on in. And you must be Brody,” she said with a warm smile. “I’ll tell Phoebe to get her things together.”

Ten minutes later, after Phoebe hugged both Ashley and her mom and promised to check in with Ashley later that evening, they were driving through Helena and back to the ranch. Phoebe had been chattering non-stop since they got into the truck, talking about the movies they’d watched, Regan and Ashley’s makeup they’d all tried on, and Ashley’s annoying younger brother.

Her voice had sounded wistful when she talked about Ryan.

Finally, Phoebe wound down and glanced around the truck. “This isn’t your truck, Brody. How come you’re driving this one?”

“This is Brett’s truck,” he said easily. “I had to borrow it because there was a problem with mine, but it’ll be fixed by later today.”

“What kind of problem?” Phoebe asked as they turned into the Flying J driveway.

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