Page 32 of Broken Love

I point at him. “He was at the building today.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive.” I shift my finger to the next guy. He’s shorter, bearded, but just as muscled. “This one, too.”

Boxcar pauses the footage and stares at them both. He says nothing, but a soft groan gets stuck in the back of his throat.

“Do you think the facial recognition software might… you know… recognize their faces?” I ask.

He peeks at me over the rims of his glasses. “Not bad, Fawn.”

I watch him work. His trained fingers click and tap away, never making a single mistake as he starts and stops the footage, snatching various screenshots of their faces.

“Where did you learn to do this stuff?” I ask him.

“Self-taught. Mostly.”

“Mostly?”

He leans back against the crate and looks at me. “Why do you ask?”

I pause, torn between smacking that smug look off his face and… well, not. The light of the laptop reflects off his glasses, casting a blue glow onto his face and tricking me into seeing the more handsome features of him. Prominent cheekbones. Thick — but not bushy — eyebrows. Sharp, playful lips...

I lean away. “What are you really doing out here, Carson?”

“Getting some fresh air.”

“You know what I mean.”

He inhales a quick breath. “Does it matter?”

“It matters to me.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s my job to keep people safe and I can’t do that unless I trust the ones around me.”

“Ahh.” He closes the laptop and shifts on the crate to face me. “Is that all?”

“Is that not enough?”

“No, it is.”

I wait, expecting him to continue, growing more and more frustrated with each silent moment. “You know what? Nevermind—”

I move to stand. He grabs my arm.

“Wait…” His grip softens and he sighs. “You can’t tell anybody.”

I raise my brow. “Why not?”

He hesitates. “Because… it’s not exactly legal.”

I fucking knew it.

“So, you are a criminal mastermind sent to kill us all in our sleep?”

“Pfft! I wish.”

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