“Do you now...” Not really a question from Blake.
But Cameron nodded. “Our minds are interesting. So complex. Take Samantha, for example. I know the way she thinks. Her first kill as an FBI agent. It wouldn’t have been easy for her. She would have blamed herself. Would have wanted to punish herself. Why didn’t she save George Farris? Why didn’t she aim for his shoulder or his leg? In that split second, why didn’t she make another choice?”
“You aren’t helping,” Blake growled.
Samantha’s stomach felt hollow. Why didn’t I?
Cameron blinked. “Samantha had to protect herself. Self-preservation is one of the strongest human motivators out there.”
She could hear the clock ticking again. The tension in the room was uncomfortable. Too high. Too thick.
“Samantha hasn’t mentioned your name to me,” Blake said suddenly.
Cameron’s eyes tightened, just the faintest bit. “Then you must not know her very well yet.”
Hell. This mess was the last thing she needed. “I’m tired,” Samantha said, rising from the bar stool. I will kick both of their asses out. After her day, she wasn’t in the mood to deal with testosterone overload. “Thanks for the wine, Cameron, but I’m really done for the night.”
He nodded. “Understandable.” He walked to her and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. “If you need me, just call.”
Right. “Thanks.”
“I can see myself out.”
He always did.
Cameron gave a little nod toward Blake. “Agent...interesting to meet you. I’m sure our paths will cross again.”
“Count on it,” Blake said, the words almost a warning. He stood near the counter, just a few feet away from Samantha. He showed no sign of moving.
But Cameron left. He strode toward the door, even locked it behind him as he left.
Her breath whispered out. “It’s been a long day...” Samantha began.
“Yeah, I know.” His expression wasn’t as hard. No more anger. Just... Blake. “My place is two streets over. I came by because I wanted, I needed to see for myself that you were okay.”
“I’m a lot tougher than I look,” Samantha said. “Promise.”
“I have no doubt about that. I was the one who was worried.”
“You don’t need to be.”
He moved closer to her, a gliding, stalking movement. Her shoulders tensed.
“You were involved with him.”
“My...you cut right to the chase, don’t you?” But then she waved that away. “My personal life really shouldn’t—”
“It’s in the eyes. The way a man looks at a woman he’s known intimately. The way he wants her.” Now his smile was mocking. “Trust me, it’s something other guys see.”
“Cameron and I aren’t involved that way, not any longer.” Not that she had to tell him this. But, well, just so they were clear. “He’s my friend. And he’s also a very good sounding board for me. When I have crazy theories, Cameron gets them.”
“But he doesn’t get you.”
Her eyes narrowed on him. “There a reason you’re asking these questions?”
His hand lifted, as if he wanted to touch her. His fingers were long and strong and she tensed.
Then Blake dropped his hand. “You’re my partner. I care about you. I want you happy.”
Happy. Now that was an interesting word. She tried to remember the last time she’d been truly happy.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have come here tonight.” He rolled back his shoulders. “Didn’t mean to cross any lines.”
“Didn’t you?” she whispered.
His thick lashes lowered. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman quite like you.”
His response surprised a laugh out of her. After everything that had happened that day, Samantha was surprised she could still laugh. “Is that good or bad?”
His lips twisted. “Could be both.” Then his lashes lifted and he was staring into her eyes. So much emotion seemed to burn in his gaze.
She found herself holding her breath.
Blake lifted his hand. “Partners?”
Her hand slid against his. His fingers curled around hers and held. “I think we’ve already established that.” Why did her voice have to sound so husky? That wasn’t what she’d intended.
“You can trust me, Samantha. I hope you know that. I’ll watch your back. I’ll hold your secrets.”
A quiver slid through her. “What makes you think I have secrets?”
His hand slowly slid away from hers. “Because I can see them in your eyes. Sometimes, you lower your guard, and I get a glimpse of the pain there.”
She’d have to be far more careful. Samantha turned from him and walked toward the door. She fumbled with the lock and glanced back at him. “Good night, Blake. Thanks for checking on me.”
He nodded. “Thanks for saving my ass.” He gave her a little salute as he passed by her.
And Samantha found that she was smiling as she shut the door. It was strange. She wasn’t sure if she had been happy in the last few months, maybe not even in the last year. Her job had consumed her too much. But she had the oddest suspicion...
Blake could make me happy.
Ridiculous, of course. Other people didn’t have that power. If she wanted to be happy, that was her choice. She needed to stop letting the past eat her alive. She needed to stop seeing death and destruction everywhere.
She had to stop seeing monsters.
CHAPTER THREE
BLAKE HEADED OUT of Samantha’s building, his steps quick, and his gaze darting around the dark street. An old habit, always checking the scene for threats. Some things that a soldier learned, well, he had a real hard time shutting off.
So maybe that was why he immediately spotted the too thick shadow near the side of the building. His body tensed and his hand went toward his holster—
“Easy.” Cameron Latham, Dr. Cameron Latham, stepped from the darkness. He had his hands up as he moved closer to the streetlamp. “I’m not one of your bad guys. I was just lingering because I wanted to talk to you.”
He was still tempted to reach for his gun. Something about the guy rubbed him the wrong way.
“I care about Samantha,” Cameron said, his voice low but carrying easily. “Like you, I just wanted to make sure she was all right. Taking a life wouldn’t be easy for her, not with her past.”
Her past. So the guy knew the secrets that Samantha carried. Another point that pissed off Blake. One day, she’ll tell me.
Cameron stopped when he was about a foot away from Blake. “When you have a past like hers, I guess you do one of two things... You either let the violence enfold you...you let it lead you. Or you find a way to fight it.”
Blake stared at him. “I don’t think Samantha would want us talking about her past, not while we’re just standing out here on the street.”
Cameron’s lips parted. He gave a quick little gasp of surprise. “True blue,” he murmured. “What a noble thing to say...don’t gossip in the streets. It isn’t right.”
Blake’s jaw locked. This guy knew jack shit about him.
“Or maybe...maybe you just have no clue what I’m talking about.” His head tilted as he seemed to assess Blake. “Don’t worry, I’m sure she’ll tell you,” Cameron said, giving a little nod. “In time. Once she knows you better. My mistake. I thought the two of you were closer. It would have explained a few things to me.”
Explained things? Blake raked his gaze over the guy. Cameron was close to his height, and he wasn’t exactly the stuffy professor sort. The Dr. looked as if he worked out, and he was dressed casually, in jeans and a black pullover sweater.
“Samantha is a special woman,” Cameron added. “I like knowing that she’s safe. Tell me, will you keep her safe, Agent Gamble?”
“Samantha does a good job of keeping herself safe.”
Cameron looked back at Samantha’s building. Blake followed his stare. Her apartment was on the top
floor, the corner unit. As Blake watched, the lights in her home went dark.
“She used to hate the night,” Cameron murmured. “But I guess that’s something that has changed, too. Everything is changing now.”
“You know...” Blake drawled, a hint of Texas twang coming out of his voice, “I can’t quite decide what you’re trying to tell me tonight. So how about we cut through the games and bullshit—bullshit really isn’t my thing—and you just spit out whatever it is that you want to say to me?”
Cameron smiled. “Straight shooter, huh? I bet Samantha respects that about you.”
Blake took a step forward.
Cameron laughed and held up his hands again. “Easy, Agent Gamble. All I wanted to say... Samantha is one of the few people I call a friend in this world. It’s important to me that she stays safe. I tried to talk her out of joining the FBI, but she wouldn’t listen. That’s Samantha...she always does just whatever the hell she wants.” But he sounded admiring. “I don’t like to think of her on the streets alone. I understand the type of criminals she’s hunting. They don’t play by the rules. They aren’t...straight shooters.”