Page 12 of The FBI Agents Who Stole Me

But I’m already thinking about that moment in the interrogation room. The way he read the suspect, found one loose thread, and unraveled him without breaking that stupid smile.

Who the hell is this guy?

CHAPTER 4

Lee

The back door slams against the wall hard enough to rattle the picture frames.

I bite back the lecture already rising in my throat and smile instead. Dad would have told her she wasn’t raised in a barn.

“Hey, Em,” I say when she walks into the kitchen.

Her feet drag across the tile, and she huffs a good morning.

“Did you have fun last night?”

Her hair is frizzy, and dark circles bruise the skin beneath her eyes. She shrugs off her coat without looking at me. Her hands shake as she drapes it over the back of a chair.

“Yeah, it was fun.”

Our eyes meet. Her pupils are so large they swallow almost all the color from her eyes. She looks away and rubs at the inside of her arm through her sleeve.

“Drink too much?” I ask, keeping my voice light as I reach for the coffeepot.

“Maybe.”

I slide a steaming mug toward her and study the tremor in her fingers when she reaches for it.

“I know you’re having fun, like most nineteen-year-olds do. But if you need me, I’m here for you.”

Emily sets down her untouched coffee and launches herself around the counter, wrapping both arms around me.

I catch her automatically and rub a hand down her back. She is trembling harder now.

She’s always been a rule follower. Before we lost Dad, she was sweet and wanted to do everything right. The perfect little girl. Now she has this wild streak I have no clue what to do with.

I was young, too, but I already had my career. It was my second year out of college. I barely remember that year beyond funeral arrangements, training hours, and trying to keep it together for my little sister.

Em lets go and swipes at her face.

“Thanks. It was just a hard night. Justin…”

I study her. Did they break up?

“You’re too good for him anyway.”

She hums. An agreement, maybe. I’m not sure what to do lately. I want to tell her he’s a loser. To forget about him and focus on school. She’s smart. But I overstepped before telling her she wasn’t made for my line of work. She didn’t speak to me for weeks after.

She isn’t cut out for it though. She’s so innocent. She sees the good in everyone, but that’s the opposite of what you have to do as a cop or an agent. You look for the bad first or else you aren’t ready when it hits you.

“Hey, want to stay in tonight? Watch Disney?”

Her eyes flick to mine, and she smiles.

“Always.” For a tiny second, I see my little sister again. My heart tugs at how much I miss her.

“I’ll grab some snacks after work.”