Under Threat by B.J. Daniels (reading the story of the .TXT) 📕

She looked perplexed, and she stood there quietly for a few minutes while he pulled his shirt on.

“I thought you’d be angrier that I kept my connection from you.”

“Just because I’m willing to help you doesn’t mean I’m not angry that you kept something from me. But I also knew you were keeping something from me, so it’s not as though it was some betrayal.”

“Right. You don’t care about me.”

It was uncomfortable how badly he wanted to argue about that, but it was best if he didn’t. It was best if he pretended like he didn’t care about her at all. “I care about your safety.”

“Because that’s your job.”

“Yes.” Yes, that was the care. It certainly wasn’t something more foolish with some woman he’d known for only a handful of days. He was too rational and practical for all that. Attraction could bloom in an instant, care could not.

She didn’t say anything to that, but there was something in her expression that ate at him. Something about the unfairness of this whole situation...grating. It was beyond frustrating that he was now part of a case where he was not just failing, but he had to stand in front of someone who was affected by the case, and tell her, every day, that he continued to fail at solving it. That he wasn’t doing his job as well as he wanted to.

“I’m not sure what I could tell you about my sister’s case that you don’t already know if you’ve seen her file.”

“Why don’t you tell me about her.”

“It wasn’t her fault. Believe me, I’ve been through every police officer who wants to say that Gabby was at fault, that she had to have done something. I have had my fill of people who want to make it into something that couldn’t be helped and can’t be fixed. I have no interest in doing that with you.”

“Look, I can’t defend every police officer that ever existed. It’s like every other profession—there are good ones, there are bitter ones. Compassionate ones, and ones who’ve been hardened and emptied or never had any compassion to begin with. But trust me when I say, I don’t treat any case as a foregone conclusion. I don’t assume things about any case. That’s shoddy police work, and I don’t engage in it, no matter how tempting a case might make it.”

“I keep forgetting you’re Mr. Conventional-by the Book,” she said with the hint of a smile, but her sadness lingered at the edges.

“I have a sister of my own. She’s done some really stupid things that I didn’t approve of, but blame is different than being stupid.”

Natalie looked away, shaking her head. “I don’t want to talk about her. I don’t...” She cleared her throat as though she was struggling with emotion, and he realized he was probably being an insensitive dick here, pressing her on something that hurt.

“I just miss her. It hurts to miss her, and it hurts to be the only one who believes that she is still out there.”

“In my professional opinion, after listening to what Herman had to say, you have every reason to believe she’s still alive.”

“You don’t think it’s a long shot?”

He sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. He was walking into dangerous territory here. Comforting her when he didn’t know anything concrete wasn’t just wrong, but it was against his nature. But comforting her was exactly what he wanted to do. “I can’t promise that anyone has your sister. I can’t promise that she’s alive, and I can’t promise you anything to do with this case. But I think you have every reason to hope for all of those things. There’s enough evidence to create the possibility.”

Natalie visibly swallowed, still looking away from him. She wiped the tears from her cheeks with the backs of her hands, and it was only then that he realized she’d been crying. Again he marveled at her strength, and it took everything in him to fight the impulse to offer her physical comfort.

He got to his feet and crossed to his computer. “Let’s make some notes. You and me together. We’ll dissect the common denominators between your sister’s case and the trafficking case.”

“You know, I think I’d rather do the hand-to-hand combat thing,” she said, her voice raspy.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve examined every detail of her case over and over and over. I can’t imagine we’d find something that no one else has found. Not when Stevens knows and is looking into it too. Quite frankly, I can’t stand sitting around not doing anything anymore. I’m so tired of being shut up in here. The only time I feel like I’m in any kind of control is when you’re teaching me how to shoot. So show me some self-defense. Show me something that feels like I’m doing something.”

As much as it surprised him to agree with her, he completely understood. There was only so much reading and trying to tie things together you could do before you started feeling useless and worthless and actionless.

So, he nodded at the furniture in the way. “Let’s clear out the living room.”

Natalie felt edgy. It irritated her that part of it had to do with seeing Vaughn do push-ups without a shirt on. She had stood there watching him for way, way too long. Way longer than was even remotely appropriate. She hadn’t just watched, she had ogled. But how could she not ogle him when he was shirtless doing push-ups in the living room? What was she supposed to do with that?

His arms had been mesmerizing. Just perfectly sculpted muscle vaguely glistening with sweat. She never would’ve considered a sweaty muscley guy a turn-on before, but holy cow.

Ho-ly. Cow. She felt jittery and off-kilter and kind of achy. Her one and only boyfriend had been so long ago, and she had barely thought about missing out on sex. It hadn’t been a big hole in her life not to have it.

But watching Vaughn do