Being in law enforcement had tainted him in many ways. It made him suspicious of everyone and everything. It made him sit in restaurants facing the door so no one could sneak up on him. And it made him snap to worst-case scenarios.
Silence stretched on for what felt like an eternity. Patience won during times like these. Lucky for him, his stubborn streak engaged.
And then he heard someone whistling. He dropped down to check the crack underneath the door. The small sliveroffered enough of a view to lead him to believe someone from the custodial department was doing his job.
On a slow exhale, he pushed to standing and returned to Blakely once he was certain the man had moved down the hallway.
“False alarm?” she asked before setting a Sig Sauer on top of her desk. Even from here, seven feet away from her, he could see her hands trembling. Did she believe she could steady herself enough to hit a mark? A thump of adrenaline could cause her to shoot the wrong person. Or miss entirely.
“Looks like it,” he said, keeping an ear toward the hallway. “Now that you have a name, do you think we should head out?”
“To go where?” she asked. “My home isn’t safe any longer.”
“We should have packed an overnight bag,” he admitted.
“I have court in the morning,” she said. Her stomach picked that moment to growl.
His place was a mess. Laundry was piled on the floor in his bedroom. His normal chores were put on hold once the call came in. Still, his apartment was safer than going home. “I have a spare bedroom. Can’t promise much in the way of comfort, but—”
“No, thanks,” she said, cutting him off.
“Do you have a better idea?” he asked, trying his level best to hide the fact his ego was bruised by the express rejection.
“I should probably stay at Bethany’s house,” she said. “I’d like to be there for Chase, especially in the morning before he’s taken to school. It’s been a hard weekend for him and…” It seemed to dawn on her that a murderer was stalking her. She shook her head. “That’s a bad idea, isn’t it?”
“Not completely,” he reassured her. “Chase probably does need you.”
“But I could be bringing a murderer to his doorstep,” she said. “He could end up in the hospital like Bethany. If she hadn’t been at my house and we weren’t on the couch this morning, she—” The helpless look she shot him was quickly followed by her squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin up. “I know what you’re going to say. I can’t think like that. But wouldn’t you if the situation was reversed?”
Dalton started to speak but bit his tongue instead. After giving reality a few seconds to kick in, he said, “My initial response is no, but that’s just the US marshal talking. As a human being who loves his family and would do anything to protect them if they needed protecting, I would blame myself just like you’re doing right now.” He paused for a beat. “It still wouldn’t be true, but I’d do the same.”
She took in a deep breath and smiled.
“Do you know how to use that weapon?” he asked, motioning toward the Sig.
“I’ve been to the shooting range,” she admitted. “Can’t say that I’m an expert marksman, but I’ve taken a couple of classes.”
“Where was it?”
Blakely motioned toward a drawer. “I keep it locked inside my desk. It’s just for emergencies.”
“Do you want to lock it up before we head out?” he asked. “I can take you anywhere you want to go.”
A surprising helpless look crossed her features for a split second before she recovered. “I have no idea where that is.” She threw her hands up.
“Since you don’t want to go to my place, I could see if I can call in a favor or request a safe house,” he offered.
“No, no,” she repeated. “Your place is fine if the offer still stands.”
“I can make a mean steak,” he said.
“I remember.”
“Does that sound good?” he asked. “We can pick up a couple of ribeye on the way home.”
“Okay,” she said, tension lines forming around her mouth—a mouth that had burned against his a little while ago. “If you don’t mind cooking. Because we could pick up something to take back, or I can order something for delivery.”
“I don’t mind,” he reassured her.