Safe from Harm (Protect & Serve #2)(9)
Mark Monroe, the brother of the man they’d just convicted, stood a few feet behind the reporters, his face twisted into a furious mask of hatred. He’d been implicated in the murder with his brother as an accessory after the fact, but they’d had insufficient evidence to charge him. He’d been popping up periodically ever since, glaring daggers at her, his demeanor vaguely threatening but never crossing a line that could give her a reason to go to the police. He wasn’t the first angry family member she’d ever had to deal with, and he certainly wouldn’t be the last.
Still, there was something in the man’s expression this time that made her glad of the crowd of reporters surrounding her. The fact that he was wearing an old jacket in spite of the oppressive summer heat momentarily set off alarms in her head until she remembered it was the same jacket he’d worn every day in court. Nothing to be worried about. It was over. The trial was over. And finally she could sleep well, knowing she’d put Chris’s killer behind bars.
Donning a genuine smile, she dragged her gaze away from his and back to the dozen or so faces eagerly awaiting her statement. But even as she began talking, she could feel the weight of Mark Monroe’s gaze on her, felt the heat of his anger that prickled her skin in vague but persistent warning.
*
Gabe didn’t know why in the hell it bothered him so much that Elle thought he was a first-class loser. But it did. It rankled him like nothing else ever had. He normally didn’t give a shit what anyone thought. If someone had a problem with him, he was more than happy to offer a cordial invitation to kiss his ass.
But when Elle had given him that pointed look of disdain that could turn even the most hardened criminal into a quivering mass of fucked-up, the foundation of his normally unshakable confidence was left a little cracked. The woman had a way of bringing him to his knees without even trying. She always had—although she didn’t know it.
He’d been completely knocked on his ass the first day he’d seen her. She’d been just an awkward teenage girl who still hadn’t even come into her full beauty, but he could see it there, could sense the strength and intelligence in her intense gaze. He’d felt like she was the only one who could see right through him, past all the bullshit. And it’d scared the hell out of him. At eighteen, he hadn’t known how to handle someone getting past his cocky teenage facade. So he’d avoided her, all but ignored her—at least, publicly.
But that wasn’t an option now. Their careers threw them together on a regular basis, whether they liked it or not. And her effect on him had turned out to be exactly what he’d anticipated. But instead of being afraid of Elle getting too close to the person he truly was, Gabe had been surprised to discover he craved it. He wanted her to see that side of him no one else had access to, that vulnerable part of him he kept safely locked away.
What the hell was that all about?
“Where’s the fire?”
Gabe’s head snapped toward the direction of his older brother’s voice. Tom was leaning against the railing of the mezzanine that overlooked the courthouse’s massive marble foyer. The courthouse was one of only two buildings in Fairfield County that could boast being mentioned in architectural magazines for the beauty of its design. While it all seemed a little over the top to Gabe and made him afraid to even frigging sneeze for fear of knocking over an overpriced bust of some long-dead president, Tom seemed right at home among all the stateliness.
But then nothing ever seemed to rattle his brother. The guy was annoyingly levelheaded, which made him pretty much the last person Gabe wanted to see just then. If he said a word about his frustrations, Tom would offer some kind of sage advice that Gabe knew he’d be better off taking but wouldn’t because it came from his brother.
“Hey,” Gabe muttered, jerking his chin at Tom in greeting. “Need to catch up with Elle.”
Tom nodded, falling into step beside him. “Ah.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Gabe snapped as they jogged down the steps to the main floor.
Tom shrugged. “Nothing. Should it?”
And here we go…
Gabe groaned before he could catch himself. “I’m not in the mood to be analyzed, Tommy.” He pushed through the revolving door, rolling his eyes when Tom ambled into the next open slot as the door came around. “Seriously, Bro. Not a good time.”
“What’s your problem?” Tom demanded. “I just came by to talk to Judge Pettigrew and heard about the verdict on the Monroe case. Thought I’d see how you were doing.”
Gabe caught sight of Elle standing just a few feet away on the courthouse steps, giving a statement to reporters, and headed in that direction. “I’m fine, Tom,” he called over his shoulder. “Everything’s just fine.”
He heard his brother calling after him but continued forward, not interested in a lecture just then. When the reporters saw him approaching, their attention suddenly shifted to him and they rushed forward, shoving microphones into his face.
“Deputy Dawson!” they called over the top of each other, competing for a sound bite.
He paused long enough to mutter the appropriate statement that he’d written the night before, explaining how happy he was that justice had been served. He’d intended to say more, but when he saw Elle slipping away, he wrapped it up with a hasty “thank you” and squeezed through the crush of press to get to her.