Mad at her manager, the FBI, the dead man in the dumpster, her landlord who offered no leniency to a person who needed afew more days. Mad at the photo someone sent to frighten her. She hated the entire stupid day.
And most of all…she was mad that she didn’t know what to do next.
The kitchen looked like every rental house ever staged to feel warm. But nothing about the house felt normal. How could it? She didn’t know what other safehouses looked like, but she couldn’t imagine feeling safe here, even with a big, muscled man watching over her.
She needed answers, and as soon as Rome walked in that door again, she was going to get them.
She looked around at the kitchen and longed for home. Her apartment was a dump, but it was her dump. Her thrifted treasures were there. Her wardrobe she actually liked. Even the stack of bills in a neat pile was her own, even if she was one notice away from being evicted.
Now she was sitting in some strange place because a strange man decided she wasn’t allowed to go home.
No wonder you’ve had so many bad men in your life.
The words struck like daggers, so sharp she actually flinched.
She looked toward the door, half expecting Rome to appear and say it again. But the house was silent except for the faint hum of the refrigerator and the distant sound of traffic somewhere beyond the subdivision.
No wonder you’ve had so many bad men in your life.
Her fingers tightened around the strap of her purse.
Jolie had told him things Stina would only confide to a best friend. Things said over coffee, late-night phone calls and even nights she needed to escape one of those bad men in her life and crash on Jolie’s couch.
Things she never expected a stranger with broad shoulders and a control complex to throw in her face.
Why would Jolie tell him that?
Why would she tellanybody?
The hurt tried to rise up inside her, but she shoved anger in front of it, blocking it from ever surfacing.
Her friend always worried about her, but that didn’t give her permission to hand pieces of Stina’s life to a man who didn’t know her.
She pushed out of the chair, then sat back down—not because Rome had told her to stay but because now she was finally grasping the danger.
Somebody had been watching her. Somebody had assigned a man to protect her, and now that man was dead.
Up until now, she’d been distracted by Rome. His orders. His perfectly angled jaw. His ability to make every conversation feel like a fight she was determined to win.
But now she was alone with reality.
The back door opened, and she jerked so hard her knee bumped the table. Rome stepped inside, locked the door behind him and scanned the kitchen.
His gaze landed on her. “The perimeter’s clear.”
“Congratulations are in order.”
His eyes narrowed a fraction, but he didn’t bite at her taunt. That annoyed her too, because arguing with him was so much easier than sitting with the weight of everything else.
He crossed the kitchen and checked the window lock. When he turned back to her, his dark gaze pinned her to the chair more than any order from his hard lips could have.
“House is secure. Bedroom on the right is yours. Bathroom is across the hall. Keep the blinds closed and your bedroom door unlocked in case we need to get out fast.”
She stared at him. “You make the stay sound so inviting.”
“Call out if you hear anything.”
“What if I hear you being bossy in my dreams?”