Page 59 of The Survivor
It riled her that he just assumed he knew what was best for her. Her parents had done the same thing. They’d told her from birth that she was destined to be a lawyer, without ever asking her if she was even interested in the law or giving her any choice in the matter.
Blake wasn’t giving her a choice, either. He’d decided that she’d be better off without him and to hell with what she felt about the subject.
And dammit, but she knew precisely how she felt about it.
She didn’t want to say goodbye to Blake Corwin. Not by a long shot. She was definitely planning to talk to him about it when he got home from that meeting. He would not push her away this time. She’d fought for her life, thanks to the RoseKiller, but when that psychopath was finally caught she would be fighting for something else.
The man she loved.
She didn’t care how many excuses Blake gave her. She didn’t care that he was irritatingly serious, or that he turned into stone whenever something threatened his precious control. Kate’s death had hit him hard, but Sam was going to be there for him. She was going to help him heal, the way he’d helped her.
To hell with his honorable intentions.
“All right, you’re evidently not going to stop pacing,” Officer Perkins said with a cheerful smile. “So how about we distract ourselves? Does Agent Corwin have any games in the house? Monopoly? Maybe a deck of cards?”
“We could look,” she said, the idea of distracting herself with a game becoming more and more appealing. “Cards would be nice.”
“You sure about that? I play a mean game of Texas Hold ’Em.”
She grinned. “So do I, buddy, so do I.”
Smiling, Perkins stood up. “I’ll check the living room.” He took two steps to the doorway but halted when the cell phone clipped to his belt began to ring. He quickly lifted it to his ear.
“Perkins,” he said into the phone. A frown reached his lips. “Now? Does Agent Corwin know about this?”
Her pulse sped up as his frown deepened. She wished she could hear what was being said at the other end. From Perkins’s grim expression, it didn’t sound good.
“I understand…yes, sir…I’m on my way.” Perkins switched off the phone and turned to her with a look that held both worry and promise. “That was Burt Hodges, one of the senior detectives working your case,” he began. “You’re being moved to a safe house.”
Surprise jolted into her. “Now?”
“I’m afraid so.” Perkins was already walking toward the front hallway to grab his coat from the hook by the door. “An officer named Paul Benson is on his way to pick you up.”
“What? Why aren’t you taking me?”
He slipped into his jacket, his expression now hard. “There’s been a break in the case. I’m needed at the station.”
Hope spurted in her chest like lava from a long-dormant volcano. “They caught him?”
Perkins reached out and touched her arm. “As far as I know, not yet. But we’re close. For your own protection, you can’t be in the city right now. Agent Corwin gave the order himself.”
She was annoyed. Of course Blake gave the order. She knew he genuinely wanted to keep her safe, but there was definitely more behind the request to ship her off. Earlier she’d made it clear that she wanted to discuss their relationship, even if he wouldn’t admit they had one. This was his way of sidestepping the discussion, forcing her into hiding so he didn’t have to face everything he was feeling for her.
“Officer Daniels is right outside,” Perkins said gently, obviously mistaking her expression for worry rather than the irritation it was. “You’re not to go anywhere until Officer Benson arrives to escort you.”
“Yes, sir.”
His eyes crinkled affectionately. “I’m sorry we couldn’t find a deck of cards. I would have enjoyed beating you in Hold ’Em.”
“Yeah, in your dreams.”
He was laughing as he left the house. Before she closed the door, she gave a little wave to Daniels, who was sitting in his unmarked patrol car, looking scary as usual. He waved back but didn’t smile.
She drifted back into the kitchen to make a quick cup of coffee before she had to leave. It took ten minutes for the fresh pot to brew, and just as she was pouring herself a cup, thedoorbell rang. Damn. Abandoning the coffee, she headed for the hall, wondering if she should pack a bag. Perkins hadn’t told her to, so she assumed that wherever she went, she’d be provided for.
The idea that Blake could be handcuffing the Rose Killer at this exact moment sent a thrill of relief sliding into her. Was the nightmare finally over?
The doorbell rang again, and she quickened her pace, then paused when she reached the front hall. There was a small notepad sitting on the credenza next to the hall closet, and she moved toward it. After a second of hesitation, she scrawled a quick note on the pad, placed the paper where Blake would be sure to see it, then grabbed her coat and slipped it on.
