Page 38 of Keep Me Safe
It was unmade and two glasses of wine sat together on the side table.
Yesterday, when Shawn had burst from the bedroom in my apartment, I couldn’t have imagined someone could move faster, yet his brother made him look slow. Jason had Shawn slammed against the wall in a heartbeat, a forearm buried into his chest.
It was the same spot where Shawn had pinned me to the wall.
The unexpected burst of violence set both the suited men on edge. They adjusted their stances, ready. There were furious words between the Dunn brothers, and I had no doubt their German was angry.
Jason shoved him away with a final phrase that seemed sobering, and Shawn turned to face me, a strange look in his eyes. Tendrils of cold sweat prickled across my back. What had that argument been about?
Since he was finished antagonizing his brother, Jason came to me.
“Is everything okay with Laurel?” I asked, preempting any lecture he was gearing up to give me.
“Yeah, she’s safe. She wanted to be here, but I convinced her it was too dangerous.”
My sister was almost as headstrong as I was. “That probably wasn’t easy.”
He gave a tight smile. “No, it wasn’t. Are you all right?”
When I nodded, he pulled out his phone, thumbed to something, and handed it to me. The picture on screen showed a man sitting at a table in a plain, white room with metal handcuffs on. His black hair was past due for a cut, and itcontrasted too sharply with his light eyebrows. A bored look was plastered on his face, but his eyes... Disturbing.
“This is Juric. Was this the guy?”
I shook my head.
“You’re sure? If his hair was shorter and lighter, could this be him?”
“No.”
Jason’s disappointment was clear. He wanted it to be, and I did, too. I’d like nothing more than to bash Juric in the head with a frying pan and end all this.
“I told you it wasn’t,” Shawn commented quietly.
Jason shot his brother a glare before turning his focus back to me. “I need to know everything you can tell me about your attacker,” he said. “Had you seen him before?”
“No. He was young and short. Dark brown hair.” I tried to remember what I could. It felt like a blur. “Uh, green shirt and black jeans.”
“Eye color? Build?” Jason’s gaze went from me, to Shawn, and back again.
“I don’t remember his eye color. He was small, kind of skinny. He spoke English like it was a second language.”
“What kind of accent?”
“Italian, maybe?”
Shawn retrieved his wine glass and sat on the bed. It felt like he was considering Jason’s questions but was studying me even more.
“Did you see any tattoos or scars?”
I frowned, wishing I had more to give him. “He looked pretty ordinary.”
“What about the knife, what kind was it?”
“It was long, with a black handle,” I said hesitantly. “And it was sharp.”
Jason didn’t react, but out of the corner of my eye, I saw Shawn turn away and take a long sip like he was uneasy.
“What about you?” Jason’s question was directed at his brother, and there was a distinct tone to it, like he’d just barely left the word “asshole” off the end of it.
