“It’ll be fine.” I remembered how everyone in town knew about us. Parker had to know. “Chances are he already knows about us. That whole fucking town is a gossip mill.”
“Maybe, but if he did, why didn’t he say anything to her?”
That was a good question. Fuck, there were so many loose ends, so many question marks that still loomed over my head. I wasn’t prepared to answer them all.
“We’ll figure that out when this is over.”
Derek and Claire were both sleeping. They were the lucky ones. My mind wouldn’t shut off for me to actually get any shut-eye. I was wide awake, and would be for the foreseeable future.
“You want me to take a shift driving?” I asked.
“Nah, I’m good for another few hours.”
Krista shifted beside me, lifting her head as she stretched her arms over her head. “What time is it?”
“Five. We’ve still got a long way to go.”
She yawned, covering her face like a lady. It was cute. Which was funny considering how little I thought of her as an actual lady. I mean, she was gorgeous and sexy as hell, but her house was an absolute mess. And then there was the way she took on those men…
“Where did you learn to fight like that?”
“Where do you think? I grew up with three brothers. If you didn’t fight dirty, you didn’t make it out alive.”
“You don’t throw people through windows, do you?”
She glanced over at me, a smile playing at her lips. “That’s a Blake thing. I have nothing to do with it. So, you still haven’t told me much about what’s going on or how we’re gonna get out of this. Or who you are.”
Shit, that whole morning-after thing was rearing its head for the second time. Only now, we had an audience.
I held out my hand, feeling silly about just now doing proper introductions. “Rob Markum.”
“Krista Parker.”
I grinned at her, though none of this was funny. “I work at Reed Security. I’m in the IT department.”
“What’s that?”
“Technology. I handle the operations, making sure everything runs smoothly.”
“Ah, so you’re more in the background than in the field,” she said, cocking her head at me with a smile.
But the way she said it set my hackles on edge. “I’m field trained.”
“Not that he goes in the field very often,” Sinner jeered.
“So, you’re not a door kicker, or whatever they call it.”
“No, but trust me, I can handle myself.”
“Well, you did survive long enough to come to my aid.”
Somehow, the way she said it made it sound like an insult. Did she really think I couldn’t handle myself or was she just screwing with me?
“I can take care of myself,” I snapped.
“Relax,” she chuckled. “I’m just teasing. So, you work in the IT department. Does that mean you can find people anywhere in the country and erase their identities?”
“Given the right circumstances, though, digital fingerprints are making it harder and harder for that to happen.”