Page 23 of Taking Care of the Target

“He said that sometimes people do, and sometimes they don’t. Sometimes familiar faces or places might jar the memory, but often, they’re lost for good.”

Vince had hoped for a straightforward yes or no, but he supposed that’d be too easy. Seeing him hadn’t jarred her memory, and he wanted to believe that meant they’d stay gone. The last thing he wanted was for her to remember the way that bullet had torn through Eduardo Alvarez’s head and left so little of it behind. Hell, he didn’t want to remember it either.

Especially since it brought back memories he’d purposely repressed for years. Before he could stop it, he got the flash of being in the front yard with Dad, mitt raised, waiting for him to throw the ball back.

Unlike last night, the car hadn’t been going slow. It’d flown around the corner, and Dad’s eyes had gone wide as he yelled and motioned for Vince to run. The bullets ripped into Dad, one after another, punching holes and splattering blood.

Vince had crowded back against the fence, crouching and making himself as small as he could as he threw his arms over his head.

And the fucking ball rolled over and bumped Vince’s feet as the car peeled away, leaving his life in shreds.

The timer dinged, breaking him out of his gruesome memories. No, he didn’t want Cassie to have images that haunted her dreams and crept up on her when she least expected them. He hated she even had to remember the bullets whizzing past her last night.

The heavenly scent grew stronger as Cassie pulled out muffins. She moved around the kitchen the way she moved around tables at work—precise, graceful movements, focused but with a smile on her face.

“I don’t have stools for the counter yet,” she said as she extended him the plate with three times as much food and a glass of orange juice, “so you’ll have to spend a little more time on the pink couch.”

“Fine by me.” His stomach growled, reminding him dinner had been long ago, and he shoveled in a few bites of eggs before biting into one of the muffins. A groan came out of his mouth before he could bother repressing it. “This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

Cassie beamed. “Thanks. Luckily blueberries and strawberries were on sale this week, so I was able to whip them up. I add a little lemon twist, too, and extra butter, because while it’s horrible for you, it’s oh-so-delicious, and really, that’s what matters. I actually love to cook, but it hardly ever seems worth all the effort for one person.”

He picked up another muffin. “You better be careful feeding me like this. I’ll just come back every day, like a stray cat.”

Cassie raised an eyebrow. “I’m not making the cat-in-heat noise, so stop fishing.”

He laughed. “You shouldn’t have reminded me of that, because I can be very persistent.” He took a drink of orange juice and leaned in. “I play dirty, too.”

She mimicked his leaning, giving him a nice view of her cleavage, and he had a feeling he was about to lose—or win, as it were. “I…” A blush crept across her cheeks. “I’m just not…it’s not…” She laughed and shook her head. “I might need some practice in trash talking.”

He joined in, glad she could laugh at herself unlike most women who were so focused on trying to be sexy they became uptight along the way. “We’ll work on it.”

Their eyes met. The desire winding through him reflected in her green irises and sent a jolt through him. Just like the first time he’d seen it in Rossi’s, he wondered how a smart, sweet girl like her was genuinely interested in him. Fleeting attraction he got plenty of, but this? This was something different. He had no clue how to act on it without screwing up everything and compromising them both.

He sat back slightly, even as his body protested and mentally smacked him in the forehead. “What time do you have to work today?”

“I have the easy shift—four to nine.” She scraped her fork across her plate, over and over without picking up any food. “So it won’t be quite as late when I go home. Maybe the hooligans won’t be out yet.”

The wobble in her voice prevented the joke from landing, and it shot him right through the heart. “How about I come pick you up a few hours before you have to be at work and then drop you off at the restaurant in time for your shift?”

“You don’t have to. I’ll probably take my car today.”

He placed his hand on her thigh, trying not to get distracted by the smooth, soft skin, and said, “I’d feel better if you let me.”

At least that was the truth.

Her teeth sank into her bottom lip, and then her eyes came back up to his. “It was just a random crime, right? And if it was random, the odds of it happening again are unlikely.”

Guilt rushed in because he knew just hownotrandom it’d been. He shoved a healthy dose of determination at it.No matter what, I’ll make sure she’s never shot at on the street like that again.

If he could convince Carlo she wasn’t a threat, surely he’d call off the hit. He wouldn’t like even the possibility of a loose end, but he wasn’t a heartless bastard.

Vince would still have a hell of a time convincing him to let it go.

And an even harder time if Carlo decided not to.

Chapter Thirteen

Jim already liked his new partner better than his old one, and all he’d done so far was show up on time for work.

---