At least in terms of his safety.
“And I was right,” he added, having held her gaze for the past several seconds.
A hint of desire crept through her.
Emma looked away. They were doing it again. Saying things with their eyes that her mouth could never say. Or follow through on.
“Like you were right on Tuesday?” she challenged.
“I was right about my offender.”
“So why are you so hell-bent on giving second chances that you’re willing to risk your life to give them to virtual strangers?” Not a question on her list.
“It’s my job.”
She turned off the recording. Looked at him. “The job you do, as I understand it, is to oversee parolees to make certain they comply with the terms of their release in order to keep the public safe.”
“Yes, that’s what it used to be, and still is, of course, but today we’re trained to help our clients, to support their efforts. We’re counselors some days as much as we are enforcement officers.”
“So you’ve had training in counseling?” She couldn’t help the tone of disbelief.
“I have a duel degree in criminology and social work, with a master’s in counseling. And I made it through the police academy, too.”
He was drawing her in with his eyes again. And seeming to listen to things she wouldn’t say. As if he were listening to Ms. Shadow.
Emma couldn’t breathe for a second there, fearing that he knew about her deepest desires. And then realized that she was smarter than that.
“Forgive me for saying so, but you sound a bit overqualified.” The words came out wrong. “Only in that you could have your own practice, or some high-level position within the police department. You know, counseling officers and—”
“I knew when I was still an undergraduate what I wanted to do,” he told her. “My training is job specific, with the end in mind.”
She’d been that sure of herself, too, getting a degree in psychology with the sole purpose of going on to law school and becoming a prosecutor. Because of an emotionally sensitive, and spoiled darling, younger sister, her childhood had been emotionally turbulent. Anna was a drama queen who’d controlled them all with her moods and her needs. Her little sister loved fiercely and was a horrible enemy, too. She could cut a person to the quick without even seeming to notice. Her parents had certainly never seemed to see the undisciplined monster they’d created by never telling her no. Or teaching her that she couldn’t have everything she wanted. Emma’s friends had gradually stopped wanting to hang out at her house because her little sister always had to be included. Anna would want things her way and then throw a tantrum, even at thirteen, if she didn’t get what she wanted. The time she’d called Emma’s best friend an ugly bitch was a standout.
Emma, the practical, reliable older sister, had been the one responsible for keeping her sibling in check at school, too. When Anna got in trouble, her parents held Emma accountable. Why hadn’t she stepped in? She knew how sensitive Anna was...
Like she’d had any control at all over her sister’s choices or actions.
Emma had longed for a life that she could control. That would be driven by written rules, things she could count on. Black and white. And so she’d become a prosecutor.
Maybe it hadn’t turned out exactly as she’d planned, but she loved what she did. Believed she was making a positive difference in the world. And...
Was ready to take the next step in her life: becoming a mother. Having a child in her life who she could love as much as she’d loved Anna—one she could raise to be aware of others and who’d learn to love in return.
Jayden was still watching her. Assessing her?
Seeing...what?
And what did it matter what he saw? She was the one in control here. Conducting an interview—even if she was no longer recording it. Everything she gained was for her to pull on in court if she needed it.
“Why is it so important to you to spend your life giving second chances?”
“Because I’m living mine.”
He fidgeted in the chair and she wasn’t all that sure it was rib discomfort that was bothering him. He’d looked up at the grate at the top of the wall that let in daylight.
She couldn’t take her eyes off him. The man had layers. A lot of them. She wanted to unpeel them all.
And not for the case.