Three days of one-on-one supervision in a hotel room will do that to a person. The only time he leaves my presence is when one of us has to pee. It’s getting pretty creepy at this point.
The rambling is what prompted him to offer me gum the first day, and it’s become a fast habit. Nervous? Gum. Talking nonstop? Gum. Mad at the situation? Gum. Bored as fuck? You got it, gum.
But while I’d been going stir crazy, now, with us driving to my place, I sort of want to return to the safety of the hotel room. I feel vulnerable out here. And alone. “He’s been taking care of Nut and Juice?”
Hunter nods again but this time adds, “I’ve been keeping him updated on closing the case. Mr. Big, aka Shane Harris, is going away for a long time with all of Connor’s intel and what JP told us. Well, once he gets out of the hospital, and how he got there isn’t going to be investigated any further.” Hunter smiles an evil grin at that, having already praised and lectured me on my actions and assured me that it was an absolutely appropriate use of force to save JP and Connor.
“Harris has already lost all credibility with the business people in town, his assets are frozen, and the conglomerate that owns the baseball team bought him out and kicked him off the board. You’re clear on the assault on Detective Carter.” He pauses, holding up a finger to stop my argument before it starts. “Yeah, I know he deserved it. The statue is back where it should be. Hell, we even got a lead on another forgery from Connor’s recon. It’s basically a blue-ribbon winner of a case as far as the bosses are concerned.”
“And The Black Rose?”
“Recovered and returned to J.A. Fox. Harris had actually kept that one for himself. He’s a fan, I guess, and it was hanging in the panic room at his penthouse.” Hunter drums his fingers on the steering wheel and looks at me. “It’s over. If you want it to be.”
Over? Nothing’s over until I know the answer to one question. “Where is he?”
He shrugs, silent again. I swear it’s like he uses his word allotment of the day in one minute and then, poof . . . nothing for hours. It drives me insane.
“Will I see him again?”
Hunter levels me with an even look, not so much a glare as a piercing gaze. “Do you want to?” There’s no judgment or pressure in the question. He’s truly only curious, but I feel a heavy weight on my chest that makes my breath catch.
This time, I’m the one who goes silent. I’ve had a lot of time to think and learn about what Connor does when working undercover by pumping Hunter for information. Connor broke a lot of rules to spend time with me, letting me into his real life and history. Hunter confided in me how much that means to a man like Connor, who’s been betrayed and plays with loyalties like a toddler with a toy. But once I’d calmed down and gotten over the shock of Connor’s being an undercover federal agent, I didn’t need Hunter to tell me that everything between Connor and me couldn’t have been a lie. Nobody lies that well. I felt it, and I know Connor did too.
I nod slowly, not trusting my voice.
“Give him some time then,” Hunter advises me. “He’s pretty fucked up too. You know he’s got issues packed away like a damn squirrel storing nuts.”
We get back to my place, and I get out of Hunter’s SUV and go inside. Even though Hunter just told me that Connor isn’t here, a small part of me still hoped to see him sitting on the couch waiting for me.
But it’s only Nut and Juice. Their ears perk up at the door opening, and when they see me, they go wild. Nut leaps from the couch, running to greet me, and Juice does laps on the couch, back and forth while barking like mad.
“Hello, babies,” I greet them, not letting them know how messed up I am right now. They’ve had enough bad days. I can at least give them a reasonable return to normality. “Yes, Mama missed you too. Are you okay?”
I pet their soft fur, feeling their round bellies, and know that Connor took good care of them in my absence. He fed them, he took them out . . . smelling Juice, I think he even bathed them.
A wave of sadness washes through me. I miss him.
I sit at my dining room table, wanting a change of scenery as I work. My ass went numb hours ago as I try to power through the last bit of my book, but I can’t stop. I won’t stop. This book and my deadline are the only things keeping me functional right now, which I know is dysfunctional as fuck.