Page 30 of Critical Witness

The observation struck Will, and he paused to consider it as he ate a few bites.

Tank didn’t try to fill the silence.

“I think you’re right. If Melanie’s life has been hard up to now, she’s used to dealing with it, I guess? Almost like we are.”

What sort of things happened in her life up to now to make a murder, an explosion, and a quick getaway seem relatively non-traumatic? And not only had she not panicked, the woman had maneuvered every situation. He wanted to ask her. Truthfully, he’d been desperate to know more about her since the beginning.

He liked to have all the information possible to make the best decisions. Maybe it was exaggeration or bias in his memory, but it felt like every time he’d made a major error in judgment, it was because he was acting on false information.

He pulled out his phone and sent Joey a text. She’d been busy with everything at Zia, but surely she’d be back soon. He wanted more information on Melanie. Even if his conscience twinged slightly at the invasion of privacy. He’d been in her apartment, but that had been about the mission. Digging into her history? He couldn’t quite convince himself it was about the mission. It was a personal need to understand a bit more about the woman he was protecting.

Joey’s text came through almost immediately.

Joey: I’m at the hospital with Cole. Is there a problem? Do you trust her? You can ask Stephen, or wait a couple more days.

Will: Call it curiosity.

Joey: In that case, here’s an idea: ask her yourself.

Will frowned at the phone.

“What’s got that scowl on your face?” Pierce asked as he walked across the living room toward the kitchen.

“Nothing that concerns you,” he said. He wasn’t exactly sure it concerned him either, which is why Will was so hesitant to have that particular conversation with Melanie.

CHAPTERSEVENTEEN

The room was darkerwhen she woke, the sunshine of the day fading rapidly into twilight outside the window.

She sat up, listening for her guys.

Her guys. It was funny how quickly the team had gone from intimidating strangers to her guys.

She waited, wondering if they were somehow gone. Fear seized her heart as she considered the possibility that they’d left her alone. Or worse, that the assassin had found them and the team had been taken out.

But the muffled sounds of laughter from the living room made her release the breath. Someone had pulled the door to her room mostly closed at some point during her nap. And a blanket was spread over her legs.

Her heart turned to a soft, mushy pile inside her at the realization that one of them had tucked her in. Her eyes welled with tears and she swiped at them furiously.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

She inhaled sharply at Will’s voice from the doorway. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

He took a couple of steps into the room, a gentle look on his face.

“You know, it’s okay if you’re not. Not okay, I mean. What has happened in the last week is enough to throw anyone off their game.”

She nodded, but she knew that wasn’t the issue. Assassinations, explosions, and running from the police, she could handle. But having people care for her in thoughtful little ways? That was going to be her undoing.

Is this what Stockholm syndrome felt like?

She was beginning to think that when this entire thing was over, she might actually be a little disappointed.

Will was sitting on the edge of the bed now, the added weight making her legs slip down toward him under the blanket. “If you need someone to talk to, to process or whatever, it’s totally normal.”

She sniffed, fighting the leftover wetness from her unexpected tears. “Thanks. I really am okay.”

Will looked at her strangely, as though he didn’t believe her, maybe.

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