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“I know there’s something bigger going on here,” Carter insists. “And if you know anything that could point me in the right direction, then it would get me closer to figuring out who’s responsible for this.”
“I’m sorry.” River shakes her head stubbornly, her face carefully blank. “I don’t have any names for you.”
Her answer hangs in the air for a long moment—long enough for it to grow uncomfortable. I know what the FBI agent is doing, letting the silence drag out in the hopes that she’ll blurt something just to break it. But River is smarter than that, and although she can be impulsive just like me, she’s good at holding her ground. She’s not the type to cave to stupid mind games like this.
After another beat, Carter finally nods and steps back.
“Alright. I’m sorry for taking up so much of your evening then. I’ll be on my way. Thanks for your time.” He turns to leave the kitchen, but then stops and glances over his shoulder. “By the way, you should have your stitches looked at by a professional. They’re sloppy.”
With those parting words, he strides from the room.
Ash follows him out of the kitchen, walking him back to the front door to make sure he leaves and doesn’t poke around in our shit.
“Fucker!” I explode as I hear the car start up in the driveway. “Calling my goddamn stitches sloppy. I should rip his fucking head off.”
“You’re not going to do that,” River says, almost laughing a little. She catches my arm and pulls me back, stopping me from going after him.
“She’s right, Knox,” Gage says. “No killing FBI agents. If we can help it.”
It doesn’t sit right with me to let him just get away with saying shit like that and looking at River and just being the way he is, but I guess Gage has a point. I scowl for a second and then sigh, turning to leave the kitchen.
“Where are you going?” Ash asks, passing me as he comes back into the kitchen.
“I’m going to go sharpen something,” I mutter and storm off down to the basement.
