Page 17 of Protecting Love

Crap, she was losing touch with reality.

Her phone buzzed, she jumped, then reached for it.

“Stop thinking,” London said, then hung up again.

4

WERE GETTING THERE

“You’re home early,” Ian said later that day.

“Yep. Slow day.”

Which seemed to be most of the time.

Fletcher should be happy that he wasn’t dodging bullets, chasing bad guys, seeing all the slime and horror in this world.

He got out at mostly a normal time.

He was able to have a good relationship with his kid that he’d missed out on for too long, even if this teenage phase wasn’t easy.

But it was exactly as he thought he’d be. Bored out of his mind.

Maybe if he had something he could sink his teeth into, it’d be better.

Yet the highlight of his week was escorting a scared twenty-eight-year-old in gambling debt trying to make a buck out of the building.

“Like, what do you do? Sit in an office or something reading reports?” Ian asked.

His son rarely asked about his job.

“Not likely,” he said. “Though I do that too.”

“You don’t talk much about it. Can you? Or aren’t you allowed to? You told me no one can know who you work for and I haven’t told anyone.”

Kids slip and Ian was used to knowing he couldn’t talk much about his father’s job before. This wasn’t much different.

“Can I shower and change first? I thought I’d cook unless you want to go out?”

“We can stay in,” Ian said. “Unless you want to go out.”

“I’m good with cooking. See what there is and take it out.”

He left the kitchen of their two-bedroom condo. When he got this job, he moved from the apartment to a condo closer to his job.

His job afforded him the opportunity to get his kid into a private school.

He thought for sure Ian would reject the idea, but strangely, he was open to it.

Once Fletcher was in his room, he unbuttoned his shirt and threw it in the hamper, then ditched his pants and tossed them in the same direction. He picked his shoes up and put them on the shelf in his closet, his eyes going to the line of suits that he used to wear daily.

Though they felt like a second skin to him back then, he didn’t miss wearing them now.

He’d shown up in one the first day and West said it was his choice, but he wasn’t that formal.

He didn’t need to be told twice and ditched the jacket. But that meant his gun was on his ankle since he kept it concealed.

It was not like there was a need for him to have it at his hip, which would make the jacket a requirement.