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While she did resent Hunter for living with the Merricks, there was a tiny part of her that was intrigued, too.
And maybe a little bit jealous. Gabriel Merrick had risked his life to drag Hunter to safety.
Would Silver do the same for her?
She didn’t even entertain the thought for a moment. Of course he wouldn’t. If she’d been there, wounded, Silver would have pulled out his gun and finished her off.
Kate shook herself. She needed to keep her mind on the task at hand. Hunter Garrity was just an assignment.
And she knew just how to handle an assignment.
CHAPTER 18
Hunter pulled his jeep into the Merricks’ driveway and almost threw his vehicle into reverse.
His mom’s car was sitting in front of the house.
It was like life kept pelting him with curveballs and he couldn’t swing his bat fast enough.
Well, he sure couldn’t leave her sitting in there. God only knew what the Merricks might be telling her.
He took his time getting through the front door. He didn’t have a key, and part of him hoped the door would be locked just so it would take an extra couple minutes before he’d have to face her. But the door was unlocked, so he eased inside, closing the door gently behind him.
He recognized her voice immediately. She was in the kitchen, talking to Michael, it sounded like. Then another woman was speaking. He was too far away to make out the words.
He fidgeted with his keys for a second before telling himself to stop being such an idiot.
Why was she here? What if she demanded that he come home? What would he do—throw a fit and demand to stay at the Merricks’? Like that would work.
He slid down the hallway silently, but Michael was by the counter, pouring a cup of coffee.
“Hi,” Michael said. “You have a visitor.”
Hunter took another step, feeling his shoulders hunch. He found himself wishing for a weapon.
And what would you do with one?
Nothing, really. But he’d felt half-naked since his grandfather had confiscated them.
Half-naked ÅÇ confident.
His mother was there, at the table, next to a blond woman he vaguely recognized. Hunter couldn’t look at them. He already felt like he was going to pieces; eye contact would clinch the deal.
Instead, he leaned against the door molding and jingled his keys in his pocket. “What are you doing here?”
“The fire at the school carnival was on the noon news, and after last week—I thought—I didn’t know—”
Now fury poured across his shoulders, hardening them in place. She’d just heard about the fires? He’d been shot last night, and she hadn’t known anything about the carnival until like an hour ago?
Even though it was something completely out of her control, he couldn’t help but blame her for it.
“I’m fine,” he said evenly. “You can go back home. You should have just called.”
“I wasn’t sure you’d answer.”
Well, that was honest. He wasn’t sure he would have answered, either.
A chair scraped against the floor, and he glanced up, wondering if she really was leaving. But it was the blond woman, young and slight and wearing the local fire station’s T-shirt.
