Page 33 of Red Hunt

“You’re military, then?” the deputy asked.

I nodded once. “I was. But I guess you already met my team. Sec Ops Group? Carter, Goofy, and Peaches? From what I heard, you attended a meeting with them.”

She jerked her head back, then nodded once. “I did. Thanks for the statement. If I have any more questions, I know how to find you.” She turned to Milli. “Milli, you’re white as a sheet. You sure you’re okay?”

Milli grabbed my hand and interlaced her fingers with mine and squeezed. “I’m okay—a little rattled, maybe. But okay.”

The deputy looked first at our joined hands, then met my eyes head-on without a smile—a silent warning not to hurt her friend?

I braced in case there was a verbal warning coming my way, as well, but she turned around and walked away.

“I’m sorry,” Milli said and squeezed my hand again before she let it go.

I missed the contact immediately. What was it about this young woman that had me so invested? “For what?”

“My friends”—she hesitated—“they’re a little protective of me.”

Didn’t I know it? First the town doctor, now the deputy sheriff. Not only did she have friends in all the right places, but they were deeply protective of her. “Care to share why?”

“I’m…because…they think I’m weak.” She blurted it out, then slapped her hand over her mouth as if she hadn’t intended to say that.

I looked at her. She looked fresh and young and kissable. “And are you? Weak?”

She thought for a moment, nibbled on her lower lip, the look in her huge, blue eyes unfocused, as if she was far away, or maybe just turned inward, searching for the truth.

“I was. But I don’t like to think I am now. I had a crappy childhood and still some hang-ups from back then. But no”—she steeled her spine—“I’m not weak anymore. And I’m done being afraid, too.”

I was suddenly hyperaware of her body just inches from mine. “Good.” What else could I say? Not that anyone would mistake her for a fighter yet. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t change into one. “Didn’t think so since I witnessed you beating the crap out of those stairs.” The thought alone made me grin. “By the way, how’s the leg?”

“The leg is…sore, but I will survive. So, what now?”

“Now we go on with our lives.”

“Just like that?”

I grabbed her hand, lifted it to my mouth, and placed a quick kiss into her palm, then let her go before she could even react. Fearful or otherwise. “We adapt. We overcome; we move on. We live every minute to its fullest.”

She nodded. “I can do that.”

And hell if I didn’t want to be by her side every possible step of the way.

19

MILLI

Somehow, something had changed.

Somewhere between the accident yesterday, where I felt beyond helpless and that shooting right now, I had changed. At least in my mind. Being weak sucked. Being afraid sucked even more, and even though the shooting rattled me, somehow, with Max by my side and watching him handle things and keep his cool, I felt stronger.

And the way he looked at me made me feel safe and special, too.

We got our sandwiches to go and cruised around Whitebrook. I showed him everything there was, every cool spot I knew, at least, though there weren’t many. I decided against visiting Grandpa today, and my appointment went without a hitch. Apparently, I had some minor cartilage damage to the knee and a sprained ankle, but the doctor told me it wasn’t severe enough to require surgery, and with a few days of rest and physical therapy, I should be fine.

Paying for physical therapy meant I needed money; money meant getting the grocery story open. ASAP.

I met Max outside the ER, just like last night. He was waiting in the exact same spot, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets. Looking relaxed and sexy. What would it feel like to be taken in his arms? To be kissed? And not on my hand this time.

But as soon as he saw me limping toward him, his demeanor changed, and he became alert and hyper-focused on me.

---