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“Is the sky falling? Meteor shower tonight?”
Blake gave her a bland look.
She gave him a cheeky grin. “Have a good night, boss.”
“Good night, Violet.”
The trip crosstown and into Blake’s townhouse development was a quiet affair. Not an uncomfortable one, just quiet for once.
When he opened my door for me, I realized I’d dozed off sometime between Boston and Lynn. “Sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry about. You’re still in recovery, even if you won’t own up to it.”
We headed up the walkway, hand in hand when Blake suddenly stopped and shoved me behind him.
“Blake?”
“Get in the car, Grace.”
“What? What’s wrong?” My heart rate galloped.
“The door’s open.” He turned to me. “Go, get in the car.”
“No, we’re going to both go to the car and call 911.”
He reached into his briefcase and came out with a handgun.
My eyes widened. “When did you start carrying?”
“We’re a security company, Grace. I know how to use a gun.”
I gaped. Of course he knew how to use one. There had been the shooting at my grandmother’s house, and it sure as hell hadn’t been me who had pulled the trigger. But spur-of-the-moment self-defense and toting around a concealed weapon seemed very different. “Glass security is not the same thing.”
“Please, do as I say.”
I fumbled for my phone.
“No cops,” he commanded. “Not unless you hear something.”
Eight
“Are you freaking kidding me?” I whispered…sort of.
The fact that the gun looked so comfortable in his hand was enough to send me to the Range Rover.
When he disappeared into the house, I held my breath the entire time.
He finally came down the walkway a few moments—or a million years—later. I couldn’t seem to pull time into any semblance of order.
He waved me out of the car, the gun no longer in his possession.
I got out and slammed the door. “What the hell, Blake?”
“Come inside. I called Jack.”
“Now you call the Army Ranger?”
“Now they’re not just breaking into your grandmother’s house.”
