Lawson was planning on going back down to the police station later in the day to speak to them himself. Since they were on that highway with the intention of grabbing a young woman, he knew they had to have some knowledge of Granger’s operation, at least a location to deliver whomever they kidnapped. The question, though, was how loyal the two men were to their boss.
Would Lawson be able to rattle them enough to share information, or were they too scared of Granger and whatever he would have threatened them with to keep their mouths shut? He’d have to wait and see how it played out after he got there and started asking them questions.
He swung his legs out of bed and massaged his temples, knowing he was going to have to fill in Xavier and the others on what had happened the night before. He was sure they’d want to know details—the same ones he wanted to know himself that he obviously didn’t have—but he could at least tell them the basics of what went down and provide the rest once he knew more.
The only way any of this operation was going to work for them, and to prepare his friends for whatever came next, would be to keep everyone updated on each step forward. No matter how small a detail was, it could end up leading toward the bigger picture.
Lawson was never big on postcase reports, and much rather preferred to be in the action and leave someone else see to the specifics, but he needed his team as strong and prepared as possible, and having all the necessary information to more forward would be the best way for that to happen.
He pulled the door open and was about to head downstairs to grab a coffee to wake himself up when he found Sarah standing in the hall, a couple of steaming mugs in her hands, and a smile on her face.
“Hey,” she murmured, handing him a cup. “I figured you could use some caffeine after your late night.”
He hesitated for a moment before taking the cup. He was sleep deprived and not really up to talking, and he knew she would have questions about what had gone down. He didn’t want to worry her further.
“I can go, if you want,” she told him, seeing his hesitation. “I know you must be exhausted.”
“No, it’s okay,” he replied, and he gestured for her to step into his room. “Come on in.”
He held the door for her, and glanced down at her face as she passed by him, noticing the dark rings around her eyes. Had she been up worrying about him all night? He hoped not. He didn’t want her spending all her time concerned about what was going on with him when he knew he was well and truly capable of handling himself.
Plus, she had been so freaked out about the encounter with those guys last night at the bar. He knew she was right to be cautious, but he could tell that her previous experiences had left a stain on her psyche. She was hyperaware, jumping at every little noise. After everything she had been through, he couldn’t say he blamed her.
She slipped into the seat at his desk and he planted himself down on the edge of the bed. Her eyes slipped to his hand, wrapped around the coffee cup, and she noticed a few grazes on it.
“Your hand…” she murmured, reaching out to touch it.
He winced and drew back, but shook his head quickly. “Nothing to worry about,” he assured her. “They got it a lot worse than I did, trust me.”
She smiled at him. “Good. I was so worried about you last night, I…”
She trailed off, and then shook her head. “I’m sorry, we don’t need to talk about that,” she told him. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”
“Not to worry. I’m just tired,” he reassured her. “It was a late night and I feel like I just closed my eyes.”
She glanced around his room, and raised her eyebrows at the sight of a few plants sitting on a shelf next to the window.
“I didn’t take you for much of a gardener,” she remarked. “Especially with how you talk about Hannah’s flowers.”
“I’m not,” he replied, chuckling. “Xavier just bullied me into having something in the rooms other than the bare minimum when we started this place.”
“How do you mean?” she asked, cocking her head with interest.
“I just wanted this place to be simple,” he explained. “I thought that would make things easy for the people who were staying here. The rooms were pretty bare back then, until Xavier said it looked like a prison, and we actually needed to make it more homey.”
“And that’s how he convinced you to put some plants up in your room?” she asked.
“Well, sort of,” he said. “He had to show me a few studies about how improving our living space can have an impact on our mental health. And then I decided I could use some greenery around here.”
“You’d make a great interior designer,” she teased him. “Prison chic. I can see it being the next big thing.”
“Maybe in another life.” He laughed. Even though he was still exhausted, there was something about her company that sent a jolt of energy through his system. Well, that and the caffeine. That helped, too.
She got to her feet to admire his plants, and then, casually, sat down on the bed next to him. After their kiss, it felt like a far more pointed gesture than it might have before. He shifted his leg so it was pressed against hers, his coffee cup resting on his thigh.
“So how are you doing? How’s therapy going?” he asked her.
She sighed. “I’m doing okay, I guess. I’m still processing everything, I think,” she responded. “I haven’t been assigned a therapist yet, but should be soon. I’m worried I’m going to have trouble opening up to someone I don’t know. Putting it all into the right words and having it make sense.”