Nobody Knows (SWAT Generation 2.0 11)

Bobo had jumped over my grandmother’s lap and out of the truck before either of us could stop him.

“You think I could beat him back?” she asked curiously.

I rolled my eyes. “No. Because the dog is seventy-something years younger than you, has four legs, and can practically see in the dark. You, on the other hand, can’t. You’d wind up breaking your hip, and then I’d have to put you in an old folks’ home, and then where would you be?”

She shuddered. “Your parents would probably think it was time to try to start hounding me for my money, thinking I was about to die.”

“Love you, Grans,” I said. “Sleep well.”

She turned to me and narrowed her eyes. “I love you, too, kid. Even when you piss me off.”

I laughed. “Whatever. You know that I’m perfect.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I caught you pissing on my azaleas last week.”

“I was watering them.” I grinned, unrepentant.

“You were pissing on them,” she countered. “And next time I catch you doing that, I’ll do the same damn thing to your bushes. Only I’m a whole lot less circumspect. I imagine I’ll get arrested by one of your buddies for public indecency, then how embarrassed would you be?”

I shook my head.

“You’re evil,” I said.

“I’m real,” she countered again as she slid all the way down onto the ground. “And if you happen to see my new renter, be nice to her. She seems like she’s in a really bad place right now. Plus, she’s in the medical field. If I happen to have a heart attack in the middle of the night while I’m watching my porn, there’s a very good possibility that she could help hold me to this world for long enough for the ambulance to get here.”

I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. “You did not just say that.”

“I did.” She cackled as she shut the door.

I could hear her all the way up to her damn front porch.

The shit.

Backing out of the driveway once she was inside, for the first time in days, my heart felt a little bit lighter.

My grandmother was a fuckin’ miracle worker.

That smile fell off my face as I drove past the woman on the lawnmower.

At least there was that, though. She mowed the lawn and I didn’t have to. That would save me about two hours every fuckin’ week.

But there was something about her—even though I could barely see her thanks to the ever-darkening night—that had me intrigued.

Something magnetic.

It wasn’t until I was all the way to the end of the driveway and heading back home that I realized I never even once glanced at the woman that was standing by her side.CHAPTER 6From the bottom of my heart, I seriously don’t give AF.-ballcapSIERRASierra,

I killed someone today.

Well, that someone happened to have a bomb strapped to his chest and he was headed toward a crowded area with kids, but still. I killed someone.

I feel like an asshole.

Even worse, I think he was just a kid.

I refused to look too closely.

I can now officially add ‘murderer’ to my resume.

Do you think that’s something that you’re allowed to have on there?

Gabriel

• • •

“Who the hell was that?” Hastings asked as she watched the large, lifted green truck pass by with such a slow acceleration that he might as well have just walked past my house.

“That?” I shrugged. “I have no idea.”

“He just gave you the longest, most intense look I’ve ever seen. And I didn’t even see his face because of the window tint.” She grinned.

Hastings was a romance novelist. She saw things that weren’t there.

“Maybe it’s because I was mowing the lawn in a bikini,” I said. “In the dark.”

She looked at my attire.

“Why are you mowing your lawn in a bikini?” she wondered.

I grimaced and looked down at it.

“Well,” I said. “It was about eighty degrees when I started. Fucking November weather is fucking crazy. Plus, tight stuff on my body makes me want to vomit right now.”

This whole being pregnant thing was super, duper weird.

Things that never bothered me before suddenly bothered me.

Things that did bother me now made me irate.

Oh, and let’s not forget about the clothes thing.

I couldn’t fucking wear them at home. It was either I was walking around in boy shorts and a sports bra, possibly a camisole if I could stomach it, and nothing else.

I positively dreaded the whole putting scrubs on to go to work thing.

“Right,” Hastings said as she put her hands on her hips. She’d run here from hers and my brother’s place, which was about a half mile away. “Why did you rent here again?”

She looked up at the old as fuck house that I’d moved into.

It was positively breathtaking to me.

The house was one of those old farmhouses. The kind that had about twenty bedrooms, a wraparound porch, deep farmhouse sinks that you could wash babies in, and a mother-in-law suite that the sweetest old lady on the planet was living in.