Page 36 of Small Town Secrets

“Laila, it’s my—”

“Yeah, I know. I know. It’s your job. I just... I don’t have to like it, okay?” She pressed away from the wall and turned to him, her direct stare taking on rigidity. “And it’s hard for me to sit back and do nothing, especially since Gerry stepped onto my home turf. And Whitney. Whitney was home tonight. And then the stuff Gerry wrote in that note. I’m allowed to get angry too, Ramos. I’m allowed to protect my own when some creep comes literally to my door.”

“You think what was in the note was anything I hadn’t heard before?” He scoffed and shook his head. The grim fact he’d become hardened to disrespectful comments made him the one to take his attention away now. “What’s shocking to you is just another Sunday to me.”

“Still doesn’t make what he wrote right.” Though he couldn’t see her, her tone turned raspy, as though she absorbed the sadder reality of being him. That raspiness filled his belly with an undefinable tension.

Gerry’s note had been filled with racially fueled hate. He’d questioned Laila’s morals and shamed her as a “single mom” and “white woman” for choosing to be with an “immigrant Mexican man.” He’d then gone on to expand on the word “immigrant Mexican” with a slew of crude racial slurs.

Laila was correct in that what he’d written wasn’t right, but being right didn’t come at the expense of being safe. The last thing Adrian wanted was her getting hurt trying to defend him.

“Everything I’ve encountered in life so far has taught me not to be a passive woman.” Her hand landed over his, and he instinctively turned his palm to connect with the warmth in her touch. “Whatever you and I are, Ramos, our few times together has meant something to me, and I care about you.”

The warmth from her hand seeped deep into his bones, spreading up his arm and into the space within his chest. He’d never seen anyone get so upset on his behalf, nor had he expected it from this enigmatic woman.

“If that’s true, then I need you to do what I’m asking.” As much as he wanted to use this opportunity to mirror her affection, military life had taught him to prioritize his tasks, and right now, that meant protecting this woman he fast fell for. “At some point, the situation in Harlow might call for you to put yourself first, Laila. I need you to do that, do you understand? Even at the expense of me. Something like tonight, it can’t happen again. You have to trust me on this.”

He turned to face her, and her eyes were wide pools denoting something between adoration and grief. Hoping to quell some of her pain, he reached out to touch the soft skin over her cheek. “We’ll find a way to deal with your more erratic neighbors. We’ll take down the syndicate, too. It’s all just going to take some time. So, until then, I need you to put yourself and Whitney first, otherwise I…”

He dropped his gaze away from her eyes, eyes that saw too much. Although maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing. Not if what she read from him right now was that he didn’t know what he would do if either of those two were hurt… Or worse.

Better for her to sense my feelings than to speak them out loud.

Something within him said she wasn’t ready for any of that, and perhaps their situation called for restraint, too.

“Yeah, I know.” He flinched at her voice, for a second there believing she really had read his mind, only for her small smile to indicate she merely referred to his order for her to stay safe. “I trust you, Adrian. I guess I just haven’t quite learned to let the extra nonsense slide.”

He gave a quick chuckle and breathed for the first time in what felt like far too long, tapping her chin with his knuckle to mark the lighter shift in mood. “I understand that, but maybe let me take the reins on this one.”

Her lip pulled higher on one side, and she shook her head with a laugh. “You realize letting someone do that goes against every fiber of my being?”

“Oh yeah, I see that. You don’t have much choice now with your arm all bound up like that.” He nodded down to her sling, and she growled, pressing her head back into the wall once more.

“This is going to suck real bad. You heard what the doctor said, no work or driving for the next two weeks. I know I’ll get through it, but I’d rather not have to.”

He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “Yeah, but did you hear the part where, with this being your first dislocation, you got the best-case scenario in needing just two weeks for the tissues in your shoulder to settle down?”

She snorted. “Yeah, still sucks though.”

He gave her that and let a comfortable silence fall between them, one where he allowed himself to get lost in his thoughts for a while. Predictably, his mind swung back to Laila’s strength and courage, to her tenacity and compassion in standing-up for him, even though that wasn’t the first course of action he would have wanted her to take.

The only other person to ever come close to having his back like that was Dean Holloway, and they’d been tight friends for over a decade ever since. He couldn’t help but wonder if his bond with Laila could be just as long-standing.

That said, he couldn’t ignore the clear battle she fought within herself. One of wanting to take on the world, yet not knowing how to step back and let someone else handle some of the struggle. Her trust in others was understandably tarnished. There was no saying whether she’d ever want to make room for him.

And because of her dented trust, and of what he’d recently unearthed about her ex-husband, Ramos fought an internal battle. One that caught him between hurting her with the truth or fostering potentially life-saving hope.

He squeezed her hand again, seeking comfort for himself more than anything else, then kept his voice quiet within this small corridor and its bright lights. “You know, I was thinking—”

“Now, that can’t be good.”

He laughed and gave her a gentle nudge. “Shush, you! I was thinking that once you’re healed, once all the syndicate stuff is sorted, we should go away somewhere. You, me, and Whitney.”

Despite his casual tone, his heart inexplicably sank in the silence before she spoke again.

“What do you mean?” She lifted her head off the wall and stared at him, tight-faced and holding a confused scowl. “Like a vacation?”

He gave a disingenuous shrug and forced a smile, because hidden behind his pretense of wanting to give her something to look forward to, was the potential for him to stick around. In Harlow. In her life. “Sure. Just the three of us. Preferably somewhere warm.”

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