No Perfect Hero(31)

I’m not into her. I don't have time.

I just need to keep my crap with Bress away from her, and that’s all I care about. It’s all I’m allowed to care about.

And I refuse to look at her as she sails across the room. So instead I pick up my burger and take a big bite, digging my teeth in fiercely.

“War? We okay?” Stewart nudges me again. “You know I was just yankin' your –”

“It doesn’t matter,” I snort around the burger. “Just eat your damn food.”

Stewart doesn’t say anything.

He doesn’t have to.

His smile speaks a thousand words as he just shrugs and tucks into his shrimp, thoughtful brown eyes tracking Haley the whole time.





*



I get out of Brody’s as soon as I’ve finished my food. There’s no reason for me to stay, and if I do, I’ll be tempted to...

I don’t even know.

I’d say I won’t think about it, but certain ideas are getting...interesting.

An Advil and my bed sound better, though, by the time I get home. I'm hounded the entire drive by a client’s voice nattering over speakerphone, demanding I get my ass over to Boise next week and do a little skip tracing on some loser who ducked out on his child support and went off-grid, supposedly untraceable.

Supposedly.

No one’s untraceable for me.

I'm a born tracker just like Jenna was. Hell, we had ourselves a bet in the war, racing each other to see who could pull more high-level terrorist fuckwits out of caves and spider holes first. Whoever lost owed the winner a year's supply of smokes.

It was looking like I'd have to pay out the nose with her ahead of me by two, before...

Fuck.

Bad bets and cheap tobacco were another thing we shared.

Two more habits I gave up after she was taken away.

But I’ll worry about it in the morning.

Heart’s Edge is my home base for now, but I tend to work nationwide. I usually don’t keep a static address, but right now I need to focus my attention here and then make up my mind about where to go next, after I’ve dealt with Bress.

I’ve waited thirteen damn years for my moment to shine, watching from afar until he tripped up enough to bring me back. Once he started expanding his operations out of town, I knew it was time.

A friend and local tipped me off that he’d started buying up properties in plenty of small towns in a fifty-mile radius. The thing with underground businesses is they don't stay under wraps for long the bigger they get.

And it’s too easy to get sloppy.

Get caught.

Bress isn’t going anywhere, though. He’s established in Heart’s Edge, so deeply rooted in the local economy that if he cut and run, he’d ruin himself.

I’ve been keeping an eye on his financials through some less-than-official channels. He’s got so much sunk into real estate and business investments that he has almost no liquid assets.

If he runs, he’ll be running damn near penniless with nowhere to go. In essence, I’ve got him trapped, cornered.

Right where I want him.

Which means I can probably afford a brief detour to Boise to pick up a quick contract to keep my liquid assets flowing.

I turn that over, settling into the hot tub out back on the cabin porch to let the steaming jets of water – plus a few beers, chilling in a bucket of ice – soothe away my tension and hopefully take my headache with it.

Should be an easy paycheck. I could be in Boise in five or six hours, probably have that asshole collared and turned in to the law in less than twenty-four, and be back before my bed’s even gone cold. Two days, tops.

So why does the idea of leaving make me so uneasy?

It’s not Bress. Not really. I know what it is. I just won’t say it.

It’s Hay.

It’s this damnable need to keep her in my sights at all times. Because some fucked up part of me is convinced if I leave her alone too long, the next time it won’t be red paint smeared all over.

Because I wasn’t here to stop it.

It’s a morbid train of thought I can’t linger on.

Bress isn't completely insane. He won't do a big, gory hit on a stranger in town because that'd bring in the Feds.

Nothing’s going to happen to Haley if I take off for two days, except she’ll rest a bit easier without us butting heads. God, she’s a pain in my ass.

Always has to challenge everything until we’re locking horns.

I’ve never met anyone so stubborn, but that’s what makes those little moments of softness stand out even more.

The way she is with her niece.

The lost, rapt look on her face as she studies a sunset with an eye for what's pretty, brush in hand.

The occasional way she looks at me as if I’m a beast with a thorn in its paw, and she’s torn between gently prying it out – or jamming it in deeper just to watch me wince.

Goddamn little sadist.

Even if she only seems to be that way with me.

I’m not all sunshine and roses, but damn.

I’m not even sure how long I sit there thinking about Hay while trying not to think about her, letting the beer cloud my mind as I stare up at the stars. For a little while, it's working.

Then there's a rustle in the bushes. I damn near jump out of the water, but what scurries out is too small for any person.