I lost count of how many times I called.
Over and over again as I prayed they were wrong. That he wasn’t really gone.
“I’m sorry,” he says again, his tone softer now.
I force a smile as I look up at him again, noting the tension in his gaze.Where was this tenderness when we’d gone on that date? Who is this man?
He’d been distant then. Borderline cold. I’ve learned more about him in the last hour of being here in his house than I did sitting across from him at that table for two.
“Thanks. It’s in the past now, and while I don’t understand it, I know God has a plan for everything.”
He nods, then takes another bite of his food.
Silence surrounds us, with only the soft humming of his refrigerator to keep us company.
Because I can’t take it anymore, I clear my throat. “So, your scar.”
“My scar?”
“I saw it when I…”
“Barged in on me while I was changing?”
My cheeks heat. “It was a conference room, not a bathroom. I didn’t expect you to be half-naked.”
“Someone spilled coffee on me. The conference room is closer to my desk.” He takes another bite of food.
“Well, next time I’ll knock.” I scoop up some rice, but don’t eat it just yet. “What’s it from?”
Shawn is quiet for a moment.
“You don’t have to tell me; I’m just inquisitive by nature.”
“Makes for a good lawyer,” he quips.
I smile. “But not great dinner company.”
Shawn’s amusement fades. “It was an undercover job. They made me as a cop, and that was their way of branding me. I’m lucky I lived. Wouldn’t have if backup hadn’t shown up in time.”
I stare at him in horror. He wasbranded? The thought of Shawn Sampson in pain makes my chest ache. Though, knowing him, he probably stared down his attackers with a cocky grin and dared them to do much worse.
“I’m sorry. That’s awful.”
He shrugs. “It could have been worse, so I’ll take what I got.”
As we fall back into silence, my mind shifts gears back to the attack, racing a million miles a minute.
Who was the man who attacked me?
What was Paul into that would have been dangerous enough to kill for?
Why did the evidence just now show up on my doorstep?
“Hey, what did you come to my hotel for?” I don’t know why it hits me now, but I realize that I never asked him what brought him there.
Shawn’s expression hardens. “To tell you that my captain ordered me to stop using precinct resources to look into a ten-year-old closed case that wasn’t in my jurisdiction.”
My stomach plummets. “Seriously?”
