“We’re here to get a statement and we’re not leaving until we do,” Rawlings returned as his gaze narrowed on Sal and then on Hank. No doubt he’d already labeled them as anything but law abiding.
I looked up at Sal, hoping like hell he would understand the subtle question in my eyes. He looked down at me and gave me the slightest of nods.
Apparently it was time for my performance. I was slightly cranky about not having any coffee first, but I’d just have to do without.
Unfortunately, I had way more practice with lying than I would have liked. I knew in order to be believable, I had to stick as closely to the truth as possible. Growing up, I lied to my parents on a daily basis. I had gotten pretty damn good at it, especially because the consequences were less than pleasant if they didn’t believe me. I’d get hit, or worse.
So, I told the story as it had unraveled. Except in this version, I’d never seen either man before and had no idea why they’d targeted us. When asked for descriptions, I altered them slightly. I could tell the detectives were skeptical at best as they took notes, their gazes sweeping suspiciously to Sal and Hank every now and then. I refused to be questioned alone when they asked, not wanting to draw this out any further.
“You think of anything else, you give us a call,” Marx instructed while handing me a card.
“Will do,” I agreed.
“We’ll be in touch,” Rawlings added gruffly, and I could tell he was pissed off. He knew I wasn’t telling them everything, but he didn’t have any proof.
Sal stood with his feet planted apart and his arms crossed over his chest as he watched them go. When the door clicked shut behind them, I took a deep breath and relaxed slightly.
“Good job, babe,” Sal said quietly, loosening his stance slightly and cupping my neck with his large hand.
I nodded. “Before the doctor comes back can I have a huge cup of coffee? A girl can only deal with so much without caffeine,” I grumbled.
Sal chuckled quietly as Hank stood. “I’ll get it,” he offered with a nod to Sal as he left the room.
“Sounds like Jeb might be okay?” I hedged as Sal claimed Hank’s former seat next to the bed.
He nodded, resting his elbows on his knees in what I recognized as a contemplative stance. “Looks like he’ll pull through. And if we can get your doctor back in here, I’m going to try like hell to have you outta here as soon as possible.”
“Good,” I replied emphatically. “You look tired, honey,” I added quietly, reaching a hand over to smooth his cheek with my thumb.
He nodded in agreement. “We can both catch up on sleep once we get home.”
He’d been using the term “home” for weeks with us, and for some reason at that moment it rankled me.
Where was Hank with my coffee?
“It’s notmyhome you know, Sal,” I pointed out. His brows rose, clearly surprised by my response. “You keep calling it that, but I’ve basically been staying with you because it’s safer,” I argued.
His raised brows turned downward in a glare, which would have had me retreating in fear if not for the fact Sal, didn’t scare me, he never had. Instead, I crossed my arms, daring him to take me on.
“What’re you gettin’ at?” he demanded.
I sighed. “I want us to live together because we want to not because you feel like you have to protect me,” I answered honestly.
“Why do you think I feel the need to protect you?” he countered.
I shrugged, not sure what he was getting at.
“Christ, for a smart woman, you can be blind as shit sometimes,” he grumbled. “You clearly don’t get it. I want to protect you because you’re mine. And you’re mine because the moment I set eyes on you, there wasn’t another living soul who could move me the way you do.”
Holy shit. That was areallygood answer.
“You’re under my roof because I want you there. You’re mine to protect. Hell, you’re mine period,” he corrected. “And, fuck that, you’re not staying with me. You’re moving in and you’re not moving out. I’ve wasted too much time. Life’s too short. You don’t like it, then I’ll chain you to the bed till you come around.”
I was full-on grinning now as he ranted. I half expected him to pound his chest and slam his club into the ground as any self-respecting caveman would.
“What are you grinning about?” he groused.
“I love you,” I absentmindedly professed, biting back a laugh before slapping my hand over my mouth. I hadn’t meant to let that slip out, though I meant every word.