Cold & Deadly (Cold Justice: Crossfire #1)(46)

“No. Thanks. Better keep a clear head. Just in case.”

Just in case some UNSUB decided to take another crack at him—and she what? Threw herself in front of a bullet to save him? Hell, no. Not happening, but he figured it would be better if she didn’t realize that.

She’d gone back to her apartment and grabbed some belongings. Who knew how long it would take to catch this bastard. At least his home had good security. He’d drawn all the blinds to prevent them becoming easy targets for a sniper upstairs, but here in the basement they didn’t need to worry.

“You can have one beer—”

“I know you don’t think much of me, SSA Sheridan.” Those eyes of hers narrowed to laser points of disapproval.

Dominic opened his mouth to argue, but she spoke over him again.

“I know you think the idea of me acting as your bodyguard is ridiculous and the last thing you want, but I take my job seriously. So, no alcohol, thank you.”

He held onto his silence when all he wanted to do was dive in to protest with both feet. After a few moments he said carefully, “It isn’t ‘you’ I object to, Ava. It is the idea of anyone—including yourself—putting themselves in danger for me.”

She looked up, and something flickered in her eyes. “I don’t believe you.”

Dominic realized he needed to treat his interactions with Ava like any other high stakes negotiation so he started with some emotional labeling. “It seems like this is upsetting for you.”

She rolled her eyes dramatically.

“It seems like you think I don’t value you as an agent.”

Her eyes went wide in feigned surprise. “What gave it away?”

“The daggers in your eyes.”

Her eyes narrowed again.

He winced. “That was a joke.” Apparently a bad one. She brought out the worst in him and he decided to use that by listing all his worst characteristics in an accusation audit. “Look, I’m an asshole. I take myself and my job way too seriously. I am hypersensitive about my political connections. I don’t want anyone thinking I got my position for any reason other than the fact I’m good at what I do.”

She was watching him now with a little less hostility.

“I don’t like the idea of some scumbag hurting people, especially my friends and colleagues. If we discover Van was murdered, I’ll never forgive myself for not being there to protect him. If he committed suicide, I’ll feel the same way.” And the idea of anyone harming this woman because she was with him drove a stake through his already aching body. He cleared his throat. “I’m a private person. I like my own space, and I don’t like having to hide from this bastard. I don’t want them to think they are winning. I don’t want them to think I’m scared.” He paused briefly. “I guess that’s pride. A deadly sin where I come from.”

She let out a long breath that sounded like she might be letting go of her resentment. “I get that. I overreacted earlier. Van always said I had a hair trigger. I apologize. I just feel like no one is taking my opinions seriously—”

“I take you seriously. You’re a good agent.”

She raised a brow in question.

“You held fire when we were being shot at during Van’s funeral. A hot head would have returned fire.”

“We were out of range.”

“Which proves you were thinking and not just reacting. And this thing with the circumstances surrounding Van’s death. You kept hammering away at the case even though no one believed you.”

Her lips pulled tight, and she looked away. “I might still be wrong.”

“You’re not wrong.” He knew it with certainty now. There were too many unexplained deaths. Too many coincidences. “I’m sorry I wasn’t keen to go out on a limb for you with the higher ups. I figured if I persuaded Frazer to do it, I’d have been able to help you while maintaining my puritanical stance.” The ease with which Ray Aldrich had agreed to reinstate her while OPR did their work had made his stomach crawl.

“I had no idea about your political relations. Van never mentioned your family to me.” She picked at a piece of fluff on her sweater. She was curious but didn’t want to admit it.

“Because he knew I hated it when people brought them up—especially at work.” Dominic got up and poured himself a small whiskey. Enough to feel the kick, not enough to blunt his faculties. “My father and I don’t have the easiest relationship, but he’s a politician so I try to not talk about it.”

“Why don’t you get along?”

He looked at her, the whiskey warming his tongue. “We get along fine, he just tends to put his career before the rest of us, and that can be hard.”

“I googled your family earlier,” she admitted. Her voice dropped low with sympathy, and he knew what she was going to say before she said it. He braced himself. “The article said your mom killed herself when you were a kid.”

“And that’s just one of the many things I don’t like to talk about.” He poured himself another shot. Crap. “What about your family?”

Her eyes went wide. “What about them?”

“The name Kanas is Greek, right?”

She nodded but shifted uncomfortably.

“Something you had in common with Van?”