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I came prepared. Completely by accident. But prepared is prepared.

I set the bag onto my lap. Something rolls beneath my leg. The empty water bottle.

I look toward Roman's truck. Stakeouts take a long time. At least they do on TV.

I pick it up. “You'll be useful.” I toss it into the bag.

I check the street. It’s quiet. No headlights or pedestrians.

Roman's truck is parked ahead.

The house across the street remains dark except for one downstairs light.

I quietly open my door. Cold night air rushes inside. I grab the bag of snacks and the empty water bottle. Then I step onto the street and close my door as softly as possible.

I stare at Roman's truck.

My smile grows.

Quality alone time.

Perfect.

34

ROMAN

I stare at Mercer’s house. He arrived at 10:47 p.m. Alone.

For a man supposedly looking for someone, Mercer spends a lot of time making it look like he isn't looking for anyone.

He's good. Patient. Careful.

So am I.

I settle deeper into the seat.

My passenger door opens, the cold November air filling my cab.

My hand moves under my jacket before I even think about it, pulling the gun free.

A blonde head appears.

Fuck.

“Hi.”

I lower the gun. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Chaos climbs into my truck and quietly closes the door. She has a bag in her left hand.

“Shh.” She puts one finger to her lips. “Do you want everyone to hear you?”

She just fucking shushed me. On my stakeout.

“Callie.”

“Keep your voice down.”