Page 80 of Silk and Steel

“I’m sorry for your harrowing ordeal, Ma’am,” he says, flipping his little notebook closed, and turning off his recorder. “It sounds like you hired the right security firm.”

“I got lucky. I’m very aware of the fact that not all stalking cases end like this.”

He nods, and stands up from the little stump he’d been using as a chair.

“Thank you for your time.”

“Can I go home? I’m starving, and I’ve told this story about nine times now.”

“I think I have everything I need. We’re going to want to talk to the band a bit more, however. Technically, what they did was illegal surveillance.”

“You need a victim for a crime, right?” I say. “Well, as the one they planted the transmitter on, I’m formally declining to file charges. Please just let them go.”

“I’ll see what strings I can pull. Here's my card. If you remember anything else, please give me a call.”

I watch him wander over to another agent, and then find my way to where Cole chats with Jax and Bastian.

“I’m finally cleared to go home,” I say with an exasperated sigh. “Can you give me a lift?”

Cole looks to Jax, who nods.

“Yeah, take the lady home. She’s been through it. Get those fingers looked at.”

Cole looks down at his newly bandaged fingers and shrugs.

“The paramedics just checked them out. Said I didn’t need stitches or anything.”

“Suit yourself. See you in the office sometime tomorrow…”

Jax looks between the two of us and grins.

“Nah, tell you what, take the next couple of days off, Cole. Heal those fingers up.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Cole walks me to his truck, which looks slightly worse for wear. As soon as the door closes, I turn to Cole.

“Look, thank you for convincing me that the things Julian did are not my fault.”

He cocks an eyebrow at me and starts the engine.

“I smell a ‘but’ coming up.”

I shake my head. “And…by your logic, that means it’s not your fault that your friend Jake died.”

He flinches, and turns his gaze forward. Cole puts the truck in drive and pulls off slowly onto the gravel road. Rocks pop against the undercarriage.

“Um, say something, Cole.”

“You don’t know the story.”

I put my hand on his shoulder and sigh.

“No, I don’t, because you haven’t told me. But I know a little. I know you miss him terribly, and that you think it’s your fault he died.”

Cole’s jaw works silently, but his gaze doesn’t have the barriers it used to. I can tell he’s at least considering talking to me about it.

When we reach the highway, however, he remains silent. Just when I begin to despair he won’t open up, he starts talking in a rush.

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