Page 15 of Unbound

I stab my fork into the eggs. “Fair point.”

He rubs at one cheek, fingers digging into the short crop of his almost reddish beard. “Actually… Now that I’m thinking about it, it’s probably better if you keep coming into work. Just in case you weren’t the target yesterday.”

I snort. “You think it was just a random shooting?” I fill my mouth with eggs, talking around them. “I doubt McKinley’s parking lot is a hotbed of criminal activity.”

I take another sip of my coffee, expecting Walker to agree with my assessment.

He stays quiet. Which technically isn’t that unexpected, but it’s a weird kind of quiet. A suspicious kind of quiet. The sort that has me sitting up straighter, breakfast forgotten. “McKinley’s parking lot isn’t a hotbed of criminal activity, right?” Still more silence. “Right?”

Walker tips his head. “I wouldn’t say a hotbed.”

My jaw drops, because that wasn’t the straight up no I was expecting. “What would you say?”

Walker tips his head from side to side as he seems to consider my question. Or how much he’s willing to offer in answer. “I would say there have been some… incidents.”

“Incidents?” I swivel my seat to face him. “What sort of incidents?”

Walker’s eyes move around the room, like he doesn’t want to look directly at me. “Various… incidents.”

I know what he’s doing, because I did it just a few minutes ago. He’s hedging. Withholding information I would really freaking like to have. Because maybe I’m wrong. Maybe the shooter wasn’t after me at all, and I can go back to what I was doing without worrying I’ve been found.

But I don’t think now is the time to push the envelope. Not when we have to go to his cousin’s house in just a few minutes. So I just take a sip of my coffee before saying, “Interesting.”

Walker and I stare at each other for a few minutes, a standoff of sorts as we each size the other up, trying to figure out how much the other knows about our particular side of an equation I’m desperate to solve.

He looks away first, sliding out of his chair with the plate he managed to empty in record time. “Finish your breakfast. I’m going to get the side-by-side ready.”

I’m not fully educated on how UTVs work, but I’m pretty sure there’s not much involved in the whole getting ready process. I’m guessing he’s just trying to escape this conversation. And that’s fine. He can try to escape me all he wants. It’s not going to work. If the past twelve months have shown me nothing else, they’ve made it very clear persistence is one of my primary character traits. I don’t give up. Even when I don’t really know what I’m doing, I figure it out. I learn. Adapt.

I also take dangerous risks and probably make stupid decisions. Like coming here using an alias I bought and paid for, thinking I’d be able to slowly collect the information I need.

Initially, it seemed like it was working. I got invited to girls’ night. Was able to ask some of my questions—many with answers I already knew—but the girls were opening up. Feeding me information. It was great.

Right up until I started feeling like an asshole for deceiving them.

Just thinking about it makes my stomach turn, and I search through Walker’s cabinets, finding some storage containers to dump my leftovers in, just in case I feel a little hungrier later. After packaging them up and sliding everything into the refrigerator, I hunt down a couple travel mugs, splitting the remainder of the coffee between the two. After screwing on the lids, I slide on the only pair of shoes I currently have access to. Luckily, the leopard print canvas slip-ons don’t look completely ridiculous with my glamorous borrowed sweats and T-shirt.

Honestly, I wouldn’t care if they did. How fashionable I look is the least of my concerns.

I carry both coffees out to the garage, balancing them in one arm while I close the door behind me. Standing on the steps leading down to the epoxy coated floor, I watch as Walker pretends to inspect the side-by-side.

“Are you finished avoiding me, or do you want me to go back inside and wait a little while longer?”

Walker takes a deep breath, eyes closing like he’s searching for patience. “I wasn’t avoiding you.” He turns, eyes following me as I walk toward him carrying our coffees. “I was avoiding the conversation.”

“Same thing.” I hold up one of the cups. “And I get it. There’s a lot I’d rather not talk about too.”

That might not be completely true. I’d love to talk about what’s going on. Go through all the information I’ve found and what I haven’t. Spitball possibilities and hypotheticals. There just isn’t anyone I can tell. No one who fully understands. No one I trust. No one who wouldn’t think I’d lost the very last of my remaining marbles.

And unfortunately, that doesn’t look like it will be changing anytime soon.

Walker takes the coffee with a grunt that I’m assuming is agreement, tipping it back. I watch as his throat flexes with each swallow, a little hypnotized by the bobbing of his Adam’s apple.

After drinking enough, it’s likely he drained the cup, Walker swipes one forearm over his mouth. “Ready?”

“No, but that’s never stopped me.”

I go around to the passenger side, sliding into the seat. Looking for a cup holder to free up my hands, I’m suddenly crowded by a giant body as Walker invades my space. I suck in a breath at the close proximity, getting a lungful of Walker-scented air. It’s clean and fresh, but also spicy and rich. The urge to lick him to see if he tastes as good as he smells is strong. But I’m stronger.