Читать книгу Hazardous Holiday - Liz Johnson - Страница 15
Оглавление“Good morning.”
Zach thought the greeting was innocuous enough, but Kristi still fumbled her coffee cup. He jumped out of the way just in time, letting the steaming joe slosh to the dark gray tile of the kitchen floor.
This wasn’t the first time she’d dropped her coffee in his presence. Apparently he had quite the effect on her coffee-drinking habits.
But he couldn’t be the only reason she was now trembling. Not after the shooting that had taken place just three days before.
“I’m sorry.” Leaning her hand against the counter, she hung her head, presumably so she didn’t have to look him in the eye.
“You thinking about Jackson Cole?”
This brought forth a Bambi stare—all big eyes and innocence—from beneath the fringe of her bangs. “All the time.”
He moved to pat her shoulder, to offer whatever comfort he could, but stopped just short of her threadbare blue robe.
“Listen, we’re going to get through this.”
“How do you know? You don’t know that! You don’t know what’s going to happen. You can’t control it. I mean—look at you.”
True. His arm was in a sling, and his shoulder felt like it was on fire, especially after the pain medications from the ER had worn off. But he wasn’t going to let that stop him from standing by her side.
From standing between her and Cole.
When the urge hit him again to reach for her, he didn’t deny it. Running a hand down her arm, he squeezed her elbow. “We’ll make it through together.”
Suddenly she ripped her arm out of his grip, and the voice that emerged sounded wholly unlike her. Fire sizzled in her eyes. “Aaron used to say that.”
His heart slammed against his breastbone at the agony in her words. He’d felt pain before at the loss of his best friend. But this was new. It wasn’t the stinging reminder of Aaron and their summers running barefoot by the creek. It wasn’t the missed stories they had yet to share or the shared past they’d rehashed a hundred times.
This was different. It wasn’t his own grief that kicked him in the chest.
He ached for Kristi. His heart broke because hers did.
And he could offer only impotent promises about things he couldn’t control. After all, she was right to remind him that he couldn’t stop a bullet, that he couldn’t control Cole, especially when he still hadn’t been found. The cops had searched the hospital grounds, and the crime scene unit had hunted out any evidence. And they’d come up with nothing.
Which didn’t make any sense. If the shooter was able to get away without leaving a trace, he had to know what he was doing. So how had he missed Kristi by almost two feet?
“We’re—”
She whipped up her hand to cut him off. “Please. Don’t.”
“All right.” He wasn’t exactly sure what he was agreeing to, but it was certainly something she felt strongly about, so he was willing to comply. “What...what can I do?”
Her gaze swung toward the living room, where Cody’s Corvette blanket hung over the arm of the couch, the little boy intent on a TV show about two guys who fixed up rusted-out muscle cars and resold them for more money than Zach earned in a year. The little man was either engrossed in it or he had sacked out for another nap.
“I’m scared.” Her words were barely a breath, and he wasn’t entirely sure she’d meant to speak them. Yet they tugged at the part of his heart that demanded he be honest with her.
“I am, too.”
She spun to look into his face. “You are?”
“Of course. I got shot.”
Just as he’d hoped she would, she let out a little laugh. Then she clamped a hand over her mouth as though she wasn’t quite sure it was okay to laugh at his injury.
Better laughter than tears, he’d always thought. So he joined her.
“We’re in the middle of something serious, and we have to find Jackson Cole before he strikes again.” He shrugged his good shoulder, careful to keep the other unmoved. “As much as I hate to say it, I’m not at full capacity.”
