I needed my hands free. My voice sharp. And my best friend home.
I was helping a volunteer load water bottles onto the folding table setup someone had thrown together on the fly, when I felt it.
That tug at the back of your neck when someone’s watching.
I turned slowly.
A man stood across the lot. Dark jacket. Dark hair buzzed short, eyes so dark they almost weren't brown anymore... Strong frame. Still. Watchful.
I knew that kind of stillness.
It was the kind that came with training and blood on your hands.
He didn’t move until our eyes locked.
Then he strode across the parking lot like he’d been invited.
“You’re a hard woman to get a read on,” he said.
“Excuse me?”
He studied me. Calm. Not cocky. Just… curious.
“Now I see why the Chief’s panties are in a bunch.”
I blinked. “I couldn’t give a flying fuck about the Chief’s panties.”
He grinned like I’d passed some kind of test. “Good. Then we can skip the part where I pretend to be impressed.”
“You here to talk to Harlan?” I asked, crossing my arms. “Tell him you’re proud of the show he put on?”
He raised an eyebrow. “You always this charming?”
“Only with men who show up uninvited and think I give a shit.”
He chuckled, then leaned in slightly, voice low. “I like you.”
I arched a brow. “And I should care… why?”
“Because I’m a much better friend than an enemy.”
“Well,” I snapped, “if you’re friends with the Chief, then you’re already on the wrong side.”
He didn’t flinch. Just tilted his head like he was cataloging every word. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that, dollface.”
I hated the way that nickname slid off his tongue.
Hated that it didn’t sound patronizing, just amused.
Like he was waiting for me to catch up.
He held out his hand, "The name's Kane."
I looked at his hand, then back up to his face. He was taller and bigger up close.
I decided I did not want to shake his hand, so I crossed my arms over my chest and took a step back.
He smirked, then glanced toward the station. Then back to me.
