Page 26 of Shadow Strike
She looked up, stopped pacing.She didn’t want comfort; she wanted truth.
He handed it to her.“That’s why you hired me, remember?”
Her face shifted.Her eyes narrowed.“What he said about your dad.About your grandfather.”She paused.“Are you okay?”
She’s asking about me.He hadn’t expected that.“I’m fine,” he said automatically.
She raised a brow.
He almost smiled.“Rule eight only goes one direction.”
“It absolutely does not.”She crossed her arms.“Answer truthfully, Clive.Are you okay?”
Clive.She hadn’t called him that before.So few people did these days, and he was okay with that.His mom had only ever called him by his first name.
It came with bittersweet memories, but when Regan said it…
Yeah.He liked it.“Ryder’s been sharpening that particular blade for a long time,” he told her.
“Were you close growing up?”
He nodded, paused.“But I know what my grandfather actually built.And I know what Ryder’s done with it.He and I both know that if Granddad were still here, Ryder’s the one he’d be disappointed with.”
Regan looked at him for a moment, then uncrossed her arms.Most of the fight had drained from her body, but her eyes were still filled with fire.“Okay,” she said.“Your plan for handling this—I’m in.We do it your way.”
“Good call.My way is usually the best.”
“Don’t push it.”
He smiled.
“Regan?CB?”Lucy called from the kitchen.“Customers!”
Regan headed for the door, and he moved aside to let her pass.She paused, and for a moment they were close enough in the narrow space that he could smell the raspberry shampoo again, faint now, but it still did things to him.
“Thank you,” she said.“For—” She gestured toward the bar.“All of this.”
Her dark eyes were so serious and still scared, no matter how tough she acted.He gently squeezed her arm.“Soon, when you claim you’re fine, it’s going to be the truth.I’m going to make sure of it.”
She huffed a laugh.“Even if it costs you your family?”
He dropped his hand.“You let me worry about that.”
She brushed her hands over her face and reset her expression, ready to take on the impending lunch crowd.“For what it’s worth, I think your grandfather would be proud of you.”
Once more, she’d surprised him.Before he could respond, she walked away, head high.“Customers at the bar,” she called back to him.
He smiled to himself and went to work.
CHAPTERSEVEN
At eight o’clock, the bar had four customers.
Four.
On a Wednesday night in late summer, when the ranchers usually came in after the day’s work and the fishing crowd rolled through on their way back from the lake and the regulars occupied their usual stools with the comfortable certainty of men who had nowhere better to be.Hill’s Tavern ran a full house on Wednesdays.It always had, for as long as Regan could remember.
Tonight, she had four customers.The Hendersons in the far corner, nursing one beer each, and two men she didn’t recognize who’d come in off the highway.The door chime jingled as they left after one round.They didn’t even leave a tip.
