Dead After Dark (Companion #6.5)(84)

Speed and agility were stronger gifts than his kinetic ability.

The leader stared at his vibrating hand, his fingers in an obvious struggle to fight the sudden involuntary shaking. Both his sidekicks backed away with worried looks. His hand shook harder.

“Screw this.” The blond grabbed the wrist of his gun hand, trying to steady it as he backtracked, beady eyes locked on Trey. His two cohorts hustled in reverse with him. When they got a good fifty feet away, the trio turned and ran down the street, disappearing into woods bordering the cemetery.

Trey released his breath and turned to Sasha.

She stood with a hand on her hip. “Would have been smarter to give them the money. Since when did your wallet matter that much to you?”

He wouldn’t have batted an eye over the cash or the credit cards, but he’d mangle bodies to keep her safe.

Trey shrugged. “Just punks. Had a gun, but no nerve.”

“Is that what they taught you at Quantico?”

Quantico didn’t train agents like him. Trey said nothing rather than lie to her yet again.

She shook her head, fanning a black curtain of hair over skin now pebbled with a chill. “Been interesting catching up, but I’ve got to run.”

“Are you driving home?”

“No. I still live in the family house here in midtown. See you.” She stepped away.

Slipping off his leather jacket, Trey fell into step alongside her. “I’ll walk you home.” He started to drape the coat over her shoulders when Sasha ground out an unladylike noise of discontent then stopped and wheeled to face him.

“Look, Trey. I’m a big girl, all grown up and capable of taking care of myself.”

He wanted to go back to when she hadn’t been so grown up and make things right with her, take the sting of hurt from her voice when she spoke to him. Instead he leveled her with a stare he used on new Belador trainees when called to do his time as an instructor.

“I am walking you home, Sasha. So we can stand here until you’re ready or keep moving in that direction. Your choice.”

She held his stare for ten seconds and then made a pfft sound of annoyance. She stalked off, contradicting her dismissal by asking, “Why are you back in Atlanta?”

Trey dropped the jacket over her shoulders and ignored the evil glare she tossed his way.

“Taking a break.” He wished he had more time to hang around. If his last op hadn’t run so long, he’d have been back here in September like normal. Until tonight, he’d thought the sporadic trips home each year to check up on her were torture.

Not even. Standing this close to Sasha again and not being able to touch her was shredding his insides.

The familiar dainty smell of her perfume spun away the years and the lost time. He wanted to hold her close once more and feel that connection he’d never had with another woman.

“How long are you here, Trey?”

Had that been interest in her voice?

“Two weeks . . . well, one more week.”

“So you’ve been here for a week already?” Her question had been more statement, rife with disillusionment.

Trey would like to tell her how he’d seen her every time he visited even though she never saw him, but refrained from digging a hole he could drive a truck into. He gave another shot at finding out what she was up to. “Why are you hunting for people? You start working with the police department?”

“Hardly.” She walked in silence for a few minutes. “I’m a private investigator.”

“Hm. So who did I scare off? A husband playing around?”

“Not exactly. Just a nobody,” she murmured then turned to the right down a sparsely lit street Trey could navigate blind. Scattered leaves shed during a breezy autumn covered the sidewalks he once strolled along with Sasha’s hand in his—before he’d had to make the hardest choice of his life. He’d always admired the classic homes built here in another era, most of which were in restored condition now.

At the steps to the two-story Victorian home Sasha once told him had been in her family for three generations, she stopped and turned to him, her boot heel scuffing against the concrete with finality. Porch lights dusted a subtle glow over the swing where he’d told her goodbye.

His throat tightened at the painful memory.

She lifted a hand he thought was going to touch his chest, the desire for her to do so stabbing him deep. But Sasha drew her fingers up and away instead, fingering a lock of hair she twisted just like she used to do when she was nervous. His fingers twitched, missing the feel of her soft hair.

“I do hope life has turned out well for you, Trey, and appreciate your help tonight with those guys, but please don’t come back. Okay?” Her eyes slipped away from his, then back, filled with an uneasy glimmer that said more than her words.

He would love to know what she was really thinking, but had developed migraines trying to reach into Sasha’s mind in the past. That problem alone had sealed their fate to travel different paths. He could never trust his heart to any woman he couldn’t hear the truth from. It was too unpredictable.

“Do me a favor, Sasha, and don’t go out alone again to track strange men. Like you said, money isn’t that important.”

Her dark eyebrows drew together in disbelief. “I won’t stay in business long if I’m not willing to take a few risks and go out after dark, now will I?”