Page 49 of Long Past Deadly

“You aren’t the only one who’s tired, Wildcat.”

“I didn’t know you had a house here. I thought it was in Los Angeles.” She waited for an answer, the confusion on her face when he didn’t reply pushing him to peel off a layer of identity.

“I sold my house in Los Angeles after the many wildfires. I use the LA Downtown Patton when I have to stay there. When we formed QM, we decided San Diego was better – closer proximity to military – and I bought a house here. By the beach, a few miles from the office. It’s a base of operations for me without using the office.” Why it scraped so hard as a confession, he couldn’t imagine except he didn’t tell girlfriends about his home space. He used hotel suites instead. Part of the dating adventure.

But she wasn’t his girlfriend. She was his partner. A whole different context. Elizabeth was family and visited frequently. Niles lived with him. Mackey, Harrison, Hunt, and Cait were the only other four who had been to his house that weren’t there for security. And why? Did he need to guard his living space from people who owned his soul as family?

She watched his face and didn’t say anything. At least the fractured look in her eyes was gone. He checked in with Frank for an update, then turned her back to the SUV parked at the end of the alley.

At the vehicle, he opened the door and put Lani in the backseat. “We’re going to my house. Both of you join us. I’ll cleared it.” He didn’t want to be the only source of protection from this guy. Not right now.

“Conners, you drive.” The man knew the way to the house and was a former U.S. Marshall. He did the security checks on his as well as Cait and Hunt’s house, and his driving and weapons skills were to be envied.

Both men put agreement into action.

He dialed Mackey. “Leaving. Alanna’s had it. So have I. We’re going to my house. I’m taking Conners and Patina.”

“Copy. Bailey’s working with Remy, and we’ll finish and talk about this tomorrow. Get some sleep. Niles with you?”

“He will be.” He would text him next.

“Good. See you tomorrow.”

He clicked off, sent the text, and rounded the car, getting in the back next to Alanna. His phone dinged. Niles agreed to meet them there. “We’re ready, Conners. Let’s go.”

Her eyes were on the alley, even though the setting sun left little light in the shadows. She shivered, a chill or a memory brushing over her. Didn’t matter. Quaid took his life into his hands. Shifting closer, he put an arm around her and pulled her against him.

“What are you doing?”

“We need some food and some rest, and there’s no reason not to lean on me. Niles is meeting us there. Wait until you get a taste of his homemade chicken noodle soup.” And probably half a dozen other things he’d ply her with. Food and a deep soak in the guest room soaker tub, and she’d be eased into sleep by the combo.

She didn’t answer, but she didn’t move either. His girl was messed up and he hated it.

She kept her eyes on the streets, clocking every corner until they turned their way to better neighborhoods and the freeway.

And still she sat stiff and silent.

Having a familiarity with how violence lingered in the system and how many sleepless nights he’d had after getting shot in Afghanistan, he let her have the moments and stayed close. It was all he could do.

Chapter Ten

Quaid ate everything Niles handed him for dinner. Fuel. Alanna picked at most things but finished the soup. She gazed around the kitchen staring at this and that, and he found himself doing the same, wondering what she thought but reluctant to break the peaceful silence.

The kitchen was the heart of the first floor, off the dining room and open to the living room. Wide counters of pale marble wrapped around a large central island, leathered stools lined one side, and the appliances were large commercial grade, not showy. It was the one room they actually lived in. He had Cait to thank for the aesthetic. He’d copied the vibe of her kitchen to get his right.

Alanna’s silence bothered him, but she’d earned it. He coaxed her up the stairs to the guest room and left her with the white marble tub filling with warm water, a counter filled with lotions and bath oils, plush towels, and all the privacy he could muster.

He listened. He waited. From across the hall in his bedroom.

Until she finally opened the bedroom door, a lavender T-shirt nightgown covering her and a towel around her neck for her long dark tresses. She hadn’t even groused about her new clothes. Progress. He handed off her service weapon. She checked the load and put it by the bed.

“Security is in the house. There shouldn’t be any problems.”

She stayed silent, and he took the hint. She sagged onto the edge of the bed as he left the room. Let her sleep, Quaid. Otherwise, he’d be providing questionable cover. Too close. Too fast. Too protective.

Conners and Patina were efficiently monitoring the property, checking every security detail. His office to the side of the living room was security central, close to Operations at QM, though not as big. Monitors, alarms, surveillance. 24/7. Niles was a ghost, everywhere and nowhere. He took the safety of this house personally. Of course, he lived here, too. This was their primary residence.

Quaid took to the shower and took longer than normal to wash off the day. He needed the jets, the hot water, the long minutes listening to the water pulse from the showerheads. The one thing he’d never adapted to in the military was communal barracks and tiny showers. This was why.