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I snort and hit my channel again, shaking my head as I try to pick up the pace and try to have a normal workout.
I point two fingers at my eyes and then at him.
I’m watching you.
Is that thunder or is it a low rumble of laughter in his throat?
At least the channel stays as I pick up speed again.
I wonder how long it’ll take before I’m too tired to fume over his shenanigans. And here I thought the kids would be the ones pranking me.
“You always watch shows about big houses nobody on a normal salary can afford?” he asks.
“Are you always this much of a judgmental prick?” I ask. I don’t even bother keeping my voice down.
There’s no one here but us and Trisha, and Trisha’s not making any secrets about her eavesdropping.
“Only to the pretty girls,” Lucas snaps without missing a beat.
I almost trip on the machine.
I have to grasp the bars to catch myself before I go flopping off the treadmill.
“Jeez. You really are shameless.”
Lucas jogs on with a blank face, but his eyes give away everything, flashing amusement.
When he glances at me, I’m struck yet again by just how warm his eyes are compared to Ulysses.
It’s weird how two people can have similar eyes, but what’s inside them makes it night or day.
As the laughter fades from his eyes, his gaze sharpens. “Don’t worry, New York. I’m just trying to be accommodating since you seem to enjoy being pissed at me so much.”
I bare my teeth. “Don’t. Not today, Officer Dick,” I add under my breath.
“Officer Graves. Not Richard. My name’s Lucas Graves, in case you forgot.”
Holy hell.
“...you know exactly what I meant.”
“Reckon I do, but wouldn’t be polite to say it in a lady’s company.”
God.
That slow drawl of his is like molasses, sweetness and mockery melted together. And I don’t know what to do with it, especially when he’s still watching me with eyes that go right through me.
I scrunch my nose at him.
“I’m not a lady, and I’m not Miss New York. I’ve always been too short for the pageant circuit, anyway.”
He snorts. “Who says that’s why I’m calling you that?” But his undertone says that’s exactly why he’s calling me that, though it fades as he sobers. “By the way, I wanted to talk to you about that. New York, I mean.”
I’ve only been half watching House Hunters with the world’s most annoying man in my ear, but now he has my full attention, my run slowing to a speed walk. “What? Did you find something out about my ex?”
For a moment, there’s just the pad of our footsteps against the treadmills, impacts alternating in rhythm.
Lucas frowns.
His hands settle on his grips like he needs support before he says what’s next.
“Not necessarily anything to do with the girl,” he says. “I did call him, though. Pretended to be a car warranty sales rep. You know, the usual scammy stuff. Makes it real easy to think up reasons to keep him talking.”
I want to laugh, imagining how he must’ve pissed Roger off, but the nauseous feeling in the pit of my stomach won’t let me. “He hates that stuff. Did he hang up on you?”
“Not before cussing up a hell of a storm. He sounded pretty agitated, and not just by me hounding him.” He shakes his head. “Still, it kept him on the line long enough to try to get a trace on the call. Nothing too sophisticated—we’re not the NSA here—but we’ve got a few apps that can help pinpoint locations.” His eyes latch on and hold mine. “This time, I couldn’t. He’s wise to that stuff, I guess. Which means we don’t know where he is, and the man must have a reason for hiding his whereabouts.”
I suck in a breath and stumble so sharply I have to step off the belt.
“Wait, you... you think he’s here?” My fingers dig into the grips as I stare at him.
“Can’t say with confidence, Miss Clarendon. Could be he followed you, or could be he’s somewhere else entirely.” He taps the treadmill’s interface and his steady run eases to a light jog, then to a halt as he turns to face me. “Can you think of anyone else he’d want to hide from?”
“Maybe,” I say dubiously.
I hate the way my voice nearly breaks.
I don’t want to be afraid of a creeper like Roger.
“He was really controlling. He always wanted to know everything I was doing every waking minute, but you can guess it didn’t go both ways. He was pretty secretive about where he was whenever he wasn’t with me. Sometimes I’d catch things, though. Matchbooks and cards from casinos and clubs.”
Lucas’ jaw tightens. “So, you’re saying he might’ve had some gambling problems, then? Makes sense. Some asshole obsessed enough to control his girlfriend that way with stalker tendencies, it’d fit the profile with compulsive gambling in the mix. Maybe he got in with some bad high rollers who might want to track him down.”
