Page 63 of The Shadows We Keep

Shit, I don’t even know what we are, but Harkin has this intense, all-consuming need to be near me. As much as I’ve fought to keep the independence I’m so keen on, I can’t deny how nice it is to have someone in my corner for once. Regardless of how our relationship started.

But I have no need for him to keep me safe; I’ve been doing that on my own since I was eight. Turning in his arms, I look up, taking in his haggard features. Between yesterday’s commotion, our quick reprieve, and this new discovery, I can see it all weighing on him.

Tracing my fingers lightly against the crease between his thick, dark brows.

“I can take care of myself, Harkin,” I remind him.

His lips graze against my palm, warming the skin with the lingering pressure. “I have no doubt about that, sweetness. I packed up your small armory. Tell me, do you use them?”

“A time or two. But only when absolutely necessary.”

“Mhm.” His tone hints at a note of approval.

I break against his caging embrace, moving back toward his desk and the catalog of surveillance photos scattered about. Picking up the least intrusive photo, I turn it over.

Friday, JFK, Night Shift. It reads across the empty space.

I drop it back down onto the table, picking up the next photo. It’s the same thing.

Wednesday,The Red Door, Member’s Guest, Not alone.

I flip through the rest of the photos. Each one follows the same pattern: day, place, small description.

Not only was I being spied on, whoever it was also took stock of my schedule. How long had this been going on around me without me noticing? Picking up the envelope they arrived in, I shake it, making sure nothing’s stuck inside, but flipping it over leaves me more confused.

Your next job

“What the hell does this mean?” I shove it in Harkin’s direction. He takes it in, while I watch his expression, his eyes go wide, before he quickly schools his features back into place.

“You know something, don’t you?”

“Fuck,” he whispers under his breath, running fingers through his already tousled hair.

“Harkin!”

“I have an idea.”

“Would you like to enlighten the class?” My annoyance drips from the question.

“So, I did this job for—well, I don’t actually know who it was for—but let’s just say they weren’t on the up-and-up.”

Interrupting before he can continue, I ask, “When you say,did a job...”My universal sign for whacking a person, making my question pretty damn clear.

His vociferous laughter eases my original concern. “Sweetness, I told you what my job is. Do you think I moonlight as a hitman or something?” His face lights with amusement.

I shake my head at my ridiculousness, but the thought had filtered through.

“I mean a mysterious envelope full of surveillance photos. A creepy note. It seems kind of cut and dry.”

His arms pull me in against his chest, crushing my cheek against his rigid muscles. “Look, I know how it seems. But I have no clue what they expect from me. The last thing I did had to do with locating information. Maybe that’s the case here, too. They obviously know we know each other.” He pulls back, looking down into my eyes. “Whatever it is, I’d never do anything to put you in harm’s way, little one. And I’ll stop anyone who tries.”

My eyes cast down at his intense declaration. His fingers dig into my chin, pulling my gaze back up to meet his. “Do you understand?”

My head nods in agreement.

“Will you tell me what they want?” He doesn’t answer me, weighing his answer behind closed eyes and a drawn in breath.

“Yes.”

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