3. Kitty

3

KITTY

T he car came to a stop outside a small, single-story house at the end of a dirt track. I’d been to safe houses in the past when other dangers had crept up, but never one like this. Thinking back, I was sure I knew the location of all the safe houses, but this one was outside of town on the edge of the forest.

Rook turned off the car and climbed out.

I almost followed, but something held me back for a few minutes. That man in the store had been so filled with hate. He looked at me and he saw my father, saw the reason his business was crumbling. We were the reason the water was dirty and the fish were dying off. I felt his pain, and yet my empathy meant nothing to him. He only saw a tool to get my father to listen.

If only the people of this town knew just how hard I was fighting for them.

And Rook? His attack played on a loop in my mind. He’d appeared in a flash and floored that man with one punch, then scooped me up like I weighed nothing and ran off with me.

It was like an old school fantasy, and I’d be lying if I said my heart hadn’t fluttered at his show of strength. Rook was a forbidden fruit, and now we were alone together in the forest.

Did I fall asleep in the car? Is this just some strange dream?

Rook waited by the door, watching me in the car, and I was tempted to stay here until he came to carry me out. But being alone in the car created a strange itch up my spine, and I wanted to be behind closed doors, safe from anyone else who might want to get revenge on my father through me.

So, with a deep breath, I climbed out of the car and followed.

“This is the safe house?”

“Mmmhmm.” Rook unlocked the door and held it open for me.

“I’ve been to all of the safe houses before. My Dad showed them to me so I would know where to run if I got caught alone. He never showed me this one.”

Inside, the hall’s wallpaper was a sickly pale yellow with the color bleeding into the white ceiling above. A musty scent filled my lungs as I slowly walked in deeper.

“Safe houses change,” Rook explained, closing the door behind us. He slid the deadbolt into place, and the thunk of metal against metal was oddly soothing. “Anything that’s a routine for too long is a danger, so new ones are added, old ones are discarded.”

“And this one?” Through a wooden door in the lounge was an open plan kitchen with a single door leading out to the back. “I didn’t think my father knew of anything smaller than an apartment.”

“I chose this one.”

I stopped in the kitchen and turned to face him. “You chose this?”

“When he showed me the current safe locations, I noticed they were all the same. Apartments dotted around town. He didn’t seem to grasp that if someone paid enough attention, these safe places wouldn’t stay safe for long.”

“So you chose a run-down little house in the middle of nowhere?”

Rook eyed me for a moment in silence. “Do you feel safe?”

I considered it, then nodded. “Yes.”

“Then it’s working.”

“You make me feel safe,” I clarified. “We can’t say it’s this place.”

There was a flicker of something in Rook’s eyes that I couldn’t decipher. Wishful thinking had me believing it was appreciation or thankfulness that I felt safe with him, but Rook was a hard man to read. He hardly ever smiled, and he was always so focused on what my father asked of him that nothing else seemed to matter.

“So…” I moved around the kitchen, sliding my hands over the worktops. The edges were warped with age, and my fingertips caught on several scratches and notches left in the wood. “What do we do now?”

Rook moved around the room, closing the curtains after checking the windows and securing the back door. When he passed close to me, a burst of warmth from his body turned my arms to gooseflesh and my mouth ran dry.

“Now, we wait for the call.”

“What call?”

“The call that says the manor is safe and that asshole has been apprehended.”

I snorted softly and rested both my elbows on the counter. “He didn’t look like he was going far after you punched him.”

“Maybe.” Rook disappeared through the door, and I closed my eyes, tracking the sounds of him moving through the rest of the house.

Being here with Rook definitely wasn’t a bad thing. In fact, I’d dreamed about it once or twice when he first started working for my father. The only thing that turned me off was that he was a much older man, and given his relationship with my father, I knew there was no way he would look at me as anything other than his friend’s kid.

That didn’t stop my mind from wandering constantly, and with a shiver of fear still echoing in each heartbeat, I wanted him near me. Being held in his arms was a taste of what it would be like to be close to him.

I wanted that.

The floorboards creaked. I opened my eyes, and Rook had returned to the kitchen.

“There’s a bedroom and a bathroom if you want to wash up. Clothes were dropped off here maybe a month ago, so if you want to wash up and change, you can.”

“Sure.” I nodded once. “So, we’re just going to be here until the call?”

“Correct.”

“How will we entertain ourselves?” I asked with a small, teasing smile. Rook’s face remained blank, but that only spurred me on. I knew there was a man with personality hidden under there, he was just too much of a soldier to let it show.

Yet.

Just as I went to press him further, my stomach suddenly flipped and a gurgle of hunger filled the air between us. My cheeks flared red-hot and I pressed one hand over my abdomen.

Rook smirked slightly. “Nerves or hunger?”

“Hunger… I think. Aw man, I was going to buy a pizza from the store after I picked up the decorations. Wait, my cart will still be in the aisle with everything I picked up, and I had the last crystal reindeer. Some asshole is going to get that now.”

Dejected, I slumped down onto the counter.

“There’ll be other reindeer,” Rook replied. He moved past me, and I closed my eyes, breathing in the warmth and faint scent of coffee that clung to Rook. “I can’t help you with that, but I can get you something to eat.”

“Okay,” I sighed deeply. “Amaze me, soldier boy.”

“So, it’s November,” I said over a forkful of rice. Rook sat at the other side of the table and didn’t look up. “You’ve been working with me since May, and I don’t know anything about you. Not really .”

Rook finally looked up.

“I mean, I know you met my Dad in college and saved his life one night when he drank too much. He uses that story all the time to try and connect with the kids. I know you joined the military and you two kept in touch with letters.” I stabbed at the chicken on my plate. “But that’s it.”

“Sounds like you know everything,” Rook replied. He ate swiftly, shoveling the food in as if someone were going to come along and snatch it from him. Maybe this counted as down time and he needed to be back on alert. Protective.

“That’s nothing,” I said. “That could be anybody’s life. Literally. I want to know something about you. ”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

I rolled my eyes. “Bullshit. You’re not a politician so you don’t have to lie. Come on, tell me something.”

Rook paused his eating and lowered his fork. “There’s really nothing to tell.”

“I don’t believe it for a second. This hot, mysterious schtick you’ve got going on only works because there’s something underneath.” I eyed his lips, then down to his jaw where a dusting of dark facial hair made his eyes even more brooding. I followed the line of his neck down to the V of his shirt where I knew his sexy muscles were hidden.

“I think you watch too many movies.”

I scowled. “You’re infuriating.”

“And you’re trying to see stuff that isn’t there.”

“No, I’m not. You just… you’re just a soldier, then? Just some hard nut that goes where he’s told and kills who he’s asked to? You’re really telling me there’s not a single drop of depth underneath that mask of yours?”

Rook’s eyes locked onto mine, and he remained silent. While my fantasy of getting to know him was slowly crumbling, it was more frustrating that he seemed to be intentionally avoiding telling me anything. He took privacy to another level.

Dejected, I returned to my food and contemplated however many silent hours we would spend together since he was unwilling to talk.

“I like cats.”

My head snapped up. “Huh?”

“I’m a cat person,” Rook said, his eyes locked onto me. “I think it’s because I spent so much time around dogs in the military that there’s an association there I can’t break, so I like cats.”

My heart skipped a beat and I couldn’t hide my smirk. “I don’t know whether to press for more details or make a joke about my name.”

“A lot rides on your response.” Rook didn’t look away.

“I like cats too,” I decided. “My dad had this massive German Shepherd when I was younger, but it scared the crap out of me. It was a lovely dog, but I was really happy when he didn’t get another. So I would totally get a cat if he let me.”

Rook nodded slowly.

“How long have you been out of the army?”

“Seven years.”

“Willingly?”

He nodded. “I saw enough carnage to last a lifetime, a lot of good men fighting for assholes in suits who would never see a lick of the pain they were causing.”

“So now you work security? Helping the little guy?”

“I try.”

“So, you fight for the little guy and you like cats.”

Rook scooped up a forkful of rice and ate it slowly. “Does that count as personality?”

“Depends. Favorite Christmas film?”

“Die Hard.”

“Doesn’t count.”

“Fuck you, yes it does.”

“Fine.” I laughed. “Favorite Christmas dessert?”

“Why all the Christmas questions?”

“Uhm, hello? It’s November? Christmas is like five weeks away and it’s my favorite time of the year.”

“Fair. I like a yule log.”

“Basic.”

“Alright then, what’s yours?”

“Trifle.”

“The fuck is that?” Rook snorted.

“Fruit, cake, jam, sweet custard, and cream. What’s not to love?” I pointed at him with my fork. “Don’t judge me when you’ve got basic bitch chocolate cake taste buds.”

“A yule log isn’t chocolate cake.”

“It basically is because you have basic taste, but don’t worry, I’m not judging.”

“Oh, I can tell.”

Then, for the first time in memory, Rook smiled. It was a small curl of his lips, but his entire face seemed to melt with warmth. It was gone as soon as it appeared, but it was amazing to see, and my fluttering heart skipped another beat.

“Why are you single?” I asked boldly.

Rook didn’t even flinch. “No one wants to date a soldier.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is. Soldiers are a fantasy in theory, but in reality? Well, you said it yourself. Not a lot of personality remains under that mask.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” I said, setting down my fork. “I think you just need a safe place to admit what’s there—a place that isn’t like where you created the mask in the first place.”

“Are you trying to analyze me?” Rook tilted his head slightly.

“Maybe.” I smirked. “I’m taking notes.” Satisfied, I pushed my chair away from the table and stood. “I’m tired. I’m going to take a shower.”

“Have fun.” His gaze returned to his plate, and as I watched him, a daring thought stole through my mind.

Was it too risky to ask him?

One wrong move and he could vanish, quit because I came on too strong, or worse, tell my father.

Not that he needed more reason to be disappointed in me.

With a flick of my wrist up my shirt, I unclasped my bra and pulled it through my sleeves. Then I tossed it onto the table an inch from his plate.

Rook froze for a second, and then he slowly looked up.

“You should join me,” I said as my heart raced. “It’s been a hell of a day.”