Page 26 of Rogue Survivor
“Sorry. Just tired. What did you say?”
He skirts the bed, his limp so much worse than usual, and I almost ask him what happened when it hits me. The guy who tried to kill Veronica kicked him. He never said a word.
“You need to eat, darlin’. You want somethin’ else? Name it, and I’ll make it happen.”
He’s so earnest, I believe him. If I wanted a lobster roll right now, he’d find the best seafood restaurant in Austin, track down the owner, and make them fire up the lobster pot.
I pick up the egg sandwich again and try another bite. It didn’t get any better. “I’m fine. This safehouse will have a coffee pot, right?”
Connor chuckles. “Yes, ma’am. Coffee pots are standard equipment. Along with microwaves, stoves, refrigerators, and pizza delivery on speed dial.”
“Pizza every night?” Veronica asks.
“No,” Connor and I say in tandem.
It feels so good to laugh, I almost forget that my daughter has six stitches in her side. That her best friend is probably scared out of her mind. That more than one person wants them both dead.
“Pizza tonight. Something healthier tomorrow, deal?” I nudge her shoulder, hoping that when this is all over, the light will return to my baby girl’s eyes.
Chapter Ten
Isabel
“What doyou mean ‘another four hours’?” Connor growls with his phone pressed to his ear. “They’re ready to discharge her, and there is no fucking—fudging—way we’re gonna just drive around the city while your cleaning crew stands around with their thumbs up their…err…noses.”
“He knows we can hear him, right?” Veronica asks. “And that thumbs go up asses?” For all the energy she woke up with, she’s wiped now and keeps nodding off.
“He knows. And he also knows you’re seventeen.” Tugging the blankets up to her chest and fluffing her pillow, I wait for her to fall asleep again before approaching Connor, who’s just shoved his phone back into his pocket. “What’s wrong?”
“One of AJ’s guys didn’t check his messages until a few minutes ago. The condo unit they use for protective assignments has been vacant for six months and someone left a carton of milk in the fridge.” He combs his fingers through his hair, a few strands sticking up oddly—right over the dent in his skull. “So they have to bring in the crime scene cleaners.”
“Oh, God. That doesn’t sound good. Then again, that expired milk probably smells better than I do right now.” I’ve been wearing this dress for more than forty-eight hours, and I think it could stand on its own.
“You’re fine, darlin’. AJ should be here in a few minutes with some fresh clothes for you. And a double cappuccino. Extra foam.” His fingers skim the back of my neck, and he pulls me in for a gentle, almost chaste kiss.
“You asked a captain in the Texas Rangers to bring me coffee?” My cheeks catch fire, and Connor’s about to kiss me again when someone knocks, and we jerk apart.
“And there he is.” Connor opens the door, and a man with dark brown hair and bright blue eyes enters the room with a shopping bag in one hand and a cardboard tray with two large coffee cups in the other. A leather messenger bag is slung over his shoulder, and the Texas Ranger star glints from under the lapel of his tweed jacket.
After looking us up and down, he shakes his head with a soft snort. “Guess I should’ve known when you threatened to kick my ass if I got her coffee order wrong.”
“Quit actin’ a damn fool.” Connor hands me the shopping bag and one of the coffee cups. “AJ Stone, this is Isabel Lopez. Veronica’s asleep, so keep your voice down.”
“It’s a pleasure, ma’am.” Angling his head toward the door, he makes eye contact with two men standing in the hall, and they nod, then turn their backs to us, blocking the entire room from view. “Those two are Sergeant Ted Billings and Sergeant Isaac McGrath. They’re on the day shift and will be with y’all until 9:00 p.m. I’m still workin’ on the night crew.”
The first sip of coffee sends a jolt all the way to my toes, but it’s nothing compared to my shock when I dig through the bag. A tank top with a built-in bra, soft black pants, a crimson sweatshirt, socks, and a package of women’s panties. All in my size. Along with a toiletry kit. “You got all this for me?”
AJ shrugs. “Connor told me how long you’d been here. Only time I held vigil by a hospital bed, I was fit to be thrown out with the trash on the second day.” AJ’s eyes hold no emotion, closed off and cold—despite all that ingrained Texas charm—but I think there’s a good man under the gruff exterior.
“Thank you.”
He nods, then shoots Connor a pointed look. One I can read from a mile away.
“I’m going to go clean up and change. Y’all can talk about whatever it is you don’t want me to know.” Leveling a finger at them, I add, “As long as you make sure Veronicacan’thear you.”
Guilt flashes in Connor’s eyes, but he offers me a half smile. “We’ll be quiet. I promise.”
I plant a quick kiss on my daughter’s forehead, pausing just long enough to make sure she’s still asleep. The two men retreat to the far corner of the room by the window, heads bent together.
