Page 4 of Shield of Love

Lillian folds in on herself, whispering, “It’s not. I’m sorry.”

Feeling like a jerk for that, I initiate the contact this time. “The causes of their deaths and the locations the bodies were discovered have been kept from the media to help us authenticate the guilt or innocence of any suspects. We don’t yet know what detail could help us nail this bastard, so we need all the information to remain confidential to ensure we can either verify or discount claims. Their names were withheld to prevent any mass panic for those who share it.”

“I’d plead for you to tell me, vowing my lips are sealed and I’d never break that trust, but that never works in books or shows. The Hero spills the beans and it’s leaked by an accomplice or something. The heroine gets blamed, swears she’s innocent, except he doesn’t believe her. Of course, they fight, she gets hurt—”

“You. Are. Not. Getting. Hurt,” I snap out. “I won’t allow it.”

I can feel her staring at me. “Wow. You take your job very seriously.”

Right. Yeah, that’s why I’m ready to become the very thing I’m hunting in order to keep her safe.

Chapter Two

Lillian

October 21st…

“It’s easier to hide when you blend in,” Thayer says, clocking my surprise as we enter the garage, effectively sealing us in and, hopefully, anyone looking for me out.

“You can say that again,” I mutter, my eyes trying to take in the vast differences in the exterior versus the interior.

“It’s easier to hide when…” I turn and stare at him, thankful for his attempt at levity as I’m trying not to lose my mind. It’s a race to see which emotion will win – crying or laughing. The former for obvious reasons and the latter because this kind of stuff doesn’t happen to people like me.

“You think you’re cute, don’t you?” I ask.

“Not really, but you think I am.”

Our gazes meet, my mouth unable to form the words to deny his claim. Not that I would. It’d be a lie and I abhor doing that.

We lean toward each other, our lips less than an inch apart, when the door opens and another car enters to my right. Kiss forgotten in my panic, I about jump into Thayer’s lap, not missing how he wraps his arms around me. They feel even better than I imagined. And I’ve imagined a lot since I first saw him three hours ago.

Has it only been such a short time that he’s been in my life?

When I realize he doesn’t appear tense, but is…did he just sniff my hair?

“Uh, Thayer?”

“It’s Willis,” he informs me.

“You didn’t even react. How’d you know it was him?” I start to move back to my seat, except Thayer seems reluctant to let go.

Quite content to remain where I am, I snuggle deeper into his embrace and do my own scent tasting, so to speak.

I’m not sure how to describe his, only that I like it.

Probably more than I should considering our current roles we’re playing.

Wrong choice of words.

This is far from a game.

It’s my life.

That takes away some of the pleasure being this close to him is giving me. As if he senses it, Thayer releases me and I scootch over to my spot.

“Detective West,” comes as a knuckle raps on Thayer’s window. I’m sure the use of his position and last name are intentional. A reminder.

And if they weren’t, that’s still the effect they had.

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