Page 9 of Don't Let Go

“You have?—”

“I’m aware.” He didn’t even let me finish the reminder. Yes, he had a supply run to do today. Supplies and information, we were spreading out where we retrieved them from. At the moment, no wireless or analog signals were leaving this location. Our phones were off when we were here and they were in shielded bags.

The only electronic devices were on a local networkonlythat had no external access. It let us watch the security system. The need to keep this location as far under the radar as we could meant isolating that contact. I still wasn’t sure how they tracked us when we’d been so damn careful.

Until we figured it out, I didn’t think there was enough of a level of paranoid to keep her safe.

“You’re aware?” Patch prompted, focusing on McQuade. I didn’t like the interception of her attention. She’d been watching me before, yet the loss allowed me to study her a little more covertly. There was an awareness to her that had been lacking since she woke from the shooting.

A vitality in the faint flush to her cheeks and the determined lift of her chin. I didn’t knowhermicro expressions as well as I might. Her tone of voice was far easier to read and to understand. She had so many different ways to speak.

Teasing.

Affectionate.

Exasperated.

Cooly professional.

Sharp, dangerous, and solving problems only half-aware of the fact someone was on the line with her.

Afraid.

Hurt.

There were easily more, I could catalog them all if I took the time. I understood the nonverbal cues in her voice. Not in her face. It didn’t help that when I tried to study her to learn more, or at least begin to identify what a faint frown on her forehead meant versus the tightening around her eyes, I stopped looking at her expression.

Instead, I found myself studying the contours of her face. How defined her cheekbones were. The fact her collarbones jutted told me all I needed to know about her lack of nutrition while they held and tortured her. She seemed wound too tight, her skin pulled taut, and all of it stretching like a mask to keep the damaged parts cobbled together.

The woman with so much strength, she prevailed on pure determination alone. That quality merely added to her overall appeal.

“I’m aware of what I have to do today,” McQuade was saying in answer to her earlier prompt. She wouldn’t be brushed off. “If we wanted to tell you directly, we would.” Not an unfair point.

“Maybe Remy was about to, before you cut him off.” The tart response pulled a real smile to my lips and I started the grinder as McQuade opened his mouth. His glare toward me just made me smile wider.

Once I had the perfect puck, I pulled her shots before retrieving the milk. “Go take your shower,” I said. “I’ll fill her in on what she needs to know.”

McQuade snorted, but it was Patch’s turn to give me a flat look even if the corners of her lips tilted. She was more amused than she wanted to let on. “You need me, press the button.”

The panic button. She had it with her always now and it buzzed to all of us. The device was more for our comfort than hers. Locke pointed that out the night he set it up, not that it slowed his hand even once.

“I will,” she said. “But I doubt I’ll need it. Remy is here.”

I appreciated both her vote of confidenceandMcQuade’s grumble in response. The mercenary didn’t linger after that, vanishing back toward the room he’d claimed for himself. Steaming her milk didn’t take much longer and I was getting better at creating the foam she enjoyed. When I carried the coffee over, I met her assessing gaze.

“I’ll make you a deal,” I offered.

“For what?” Head tilted, she accepted the coffee and grinned at it. “Also, thank you for this.”

“You’re very welcome, the deal is, you answer a question and I’ll answer a question.”

“Quid pro quo.” She summed it up beautifully. “That seems almost too easy.”

“Does it?” It was an open-ended question. So while she pondered that, I continued, “Breakfast?”

“Yes please, and I think I would like some eggs with the toast this morning.”

She sipped her coffee. The flick of her gaze away as she drank didn’t fool me. I’d laid out the bait neatly. If she missed it at all, then she was definitely not ready for the conversation. She waited until I was getting the eggs out.

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