If You See Her

by Shiloh Walker

Oh, damn.

  But backing away didn’t seem to be an option, either, because even though she didn’t seem quite so shaken, she was still worked up over something. Every few seconds, an odd little hitching breath would escape her, like she was struggling not to sob.

  Her fingers were kneading the flesh at his waist, kind of like a cat.

  And there was so much tension in the air, he could cut it with a knife.

  From the corner of his eye, he saw Law moving off to the side. Caught him grabbing something off a table in the hall, tucking it behind him. Narrowing his eyes, he angled his head to catch a glance, but no luck.

  Hope shifted against his chest and then eased back, her lashes low over her misty green eyes. “Geez, sorry about that,” she murmured. She winced and reached up, smoothing her hands down the front of his suit. “I’m getting you wrinkled.”

  “Screw it.” He cupped her chin in his hand, tipping her face up to his. She had tears drying on her face. And although she tried to hide it, there was fear dancing in the depths of her eyes.

  He was sick and tired of seeing her afraid—hadn’t she had enough fear in her life? What had caused it this time?

  He stroked a thumb over her lip as he asked, “So what’s going on?”

  It had better not be that sick fuck of an ex. Remy just might decide to pay the bastard a social call. He could get to Oklahoma and back fast enough. Nobody had to even know he was gone, he figured.

  Law appeared in the doorway and Hope glanced over at him, her face twisting in a grimace. “Law and I had a visitor. Apparently your town gossip is going around spreading tales about how Law and I have this very torrid, and very twisted, relationship—when we’re not tearing up the sheets, we’re killing women for kicks.”

  “What?” Remy shot a glance at Law and then looked back at Hope. “Are you serious?”

  “Yeah.” Hope sighed and leaned her head back against his chest, but didn’t seem too inclined to add anything else.

  Shifting his gaze to Law, he waited.

  “Afraid she’s pretty damn serious.” Law leaned his shoulder against the door frame. “The woman who was found here … apparently her cousin was in town today, talking to the sheriff and Deb was there.”

  “Oh, hell.” Remy scowled. He could only imagine what kind of stories Deb had decided to tell the woman. Although he was confused on one front. Absently, he stroked a hand up Hope’s back, curled it over her neck and started to rub the tense muscles there. She made a rough sound deep in her throat and cuddled closer. “She thinks the two of you killed her cousin and she decided to traipse out here to … what?”

  “Confront us.” Law jerked a shoulder in a shrug. “She was pissed, she doesn’t lack for guts, and when she had this idea in her head that the sheriff was just ignoring evidence, she decided to see what she could see. But she figured out pretty quick that Deb isn’t exactly a reliable fount of information. End of story.”

  Remy narrowed his eyes. End of story?

  No. He didn’t think so.

  Something had Hope an absolute mess and it wasn’t just because some strange woman showed up on Law’s doorstep and accused them of being a twisted, modern-day version of Bonnie and Clyde. She’d gone through too much hell for something like that to push her to tears.

  “And what else did she do?” Remy asked, cocking a brow at Law.

  Law jerked a shoulder in a shrug. “Nothing you need to worry about.”

  Hope stiffened in his arms and lifted her head. Something about the look on her face had Remy’s gut twisted into knots. And her eyes … they were dark. Angry. Scared.

  “Nothing to worry about?” she echoed. She pushed away from Remy and faced her friend, her narrow shoulders rigid, her hands clenched into fists. “Excuse me, but there were two of us here, Law. Two of us, and it wasn’t just you she had the fucking gun pointed at.”

  Everything inside Remy went cold and tight.

  “Gun?”

  “Damn it, Hope,” Law snarled, shoving away from the wall.

  Remy pushed between them, blocking her from the other man. “What gun?” he asked flatly.

  “It’s nothing you need to worry about. I handled it, it’s done.”

  “And where’s the gun?” Remy demanded.

  Law ignored him, shifting around to stare at Hope. “Damn it, don’t you think that woman’s been through enough? She doesn’t need to have some shark on her tail right now.”

  “She came out here perfectly willing to kill the two of us,” Hope shouted.

  “I got the damn gun away, didn’t I? And she’s not going to try to kill us. If I thought she’d ever hurt you, do you really think I’d take that chance?”

  Remy wanted to hit something.

  Preferably Law.

  Instead, he took a deep breath and then, when the two of them paused in between bouts of yelling, he said, “Law, where in the hell is the gun?”

  Law stiffened. Then he blinked and a lazy smile curled his lips. “What gun, Counselor?”

  “Oh, fuck this. You going to make me try to get a warrant?” he snapped.

  Law laughed. “Oh, you won’t do that. The only way you can is if you have some sort of proof, and right now the only proof would be Hope’s word.” He slanted a look at Hope. “And while she’s pissed off at me, I don’t think you really want to put her in that position, and I know she’s not going to want to do it, either.”

  Anger punched through Remy at the look on Hope’s face.

  She looked … crushed. Like Law had just about ripped her heart out, and while Law didn’t realize it, Remy could tell that was exactly what the fuck he had just done.

  But just when he was about to say something, Hope shook her head and in a quiet voice, asked, “And why are you putting me in this position, Law? Your best friend? You don’t even know that woman. She threatened us … threatened me. Hell. You spent two years trying to talk me into putting down roots—two years telling me I could come here, make a home here, be safe here. You don’t know her, but you’re protecting her and you’re using our friendship to do it?”

  She swallowed and looked away, closed her eyes.

  When she looked back at him, she whispered raggedly, “Thanks a lot, Law.”

  For the first time since he’d known the man, Remy got to see Law Reilly look flummoxed.

  “Shit, Hope.” He shook his head. “I don’t know. But she’s not going to come back and try to hurt you. Or me. I just know it.”

  He reached out a hand to her.

  Hope stared at it.

  But then, she looked away.

  And found herself staring at Remy.

  She loved Law—he was her dearest, closest friend, and he’d kept her sane, or as close to it as she was going to come.

  But right then, she couldn’t be here. What had happened earlier still left her feeling sick, dazed.

  And the position Law had just tried to put her in—had been willing to put her in—had her so miserably unhappy, it hurt. It felt like somebody had just punched her square in the chest and she couldn’t handle it.

  Reaching out, she wrapped her hand around Remy’s arm. “I don’t suppose you feel like taking me for some lunch or something, do you?”

  “Actually, that was why I came out.” He dipped his head and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

  “Thanks.” She glanced down at her clothes—an over-large T-shirt and jeans. It would have to do, but she needed some shoes. “Let me grab some shoes.”

  She disappeared from the room, well aware of the tension she was leaving behind.

  But just then, she didn’t care.

  “Where’s the gun?” Remy demanded as Hope disappeared up the stairs.

  Curling his lip, Law repeated, “What gun?”

  “Oh, fuck you.” Then he shot a look toward the ceiling. “How in the hell could you do that to her?”

  “Shit, Remy. You know what Hope means to me—you actually think I’d let anything happen if I thought she’d be in any dange
r?”

  Remy shook his head. “I’m not talking about the gun. Or the woman, directly. Although shit, she must be something if she’s actually got you thinking with your dick—I didn’t think you’d ever notice anybody besides Lena.” Taking a step closer, he dropped his voice and said, “Hope thinks the sun rises and sets on you—you’re the closest thing to a brother she has. I can see that. And you just deliberately used that, used her, to protect some woman you don’t even know. You used her, you bastard—you fucking used her. How do you think that made her feel? I swear, I could kick your ass for putting that look in her eyes, you son of a bitch.”

  Out in the hall, he heard Hope’s footsteps.

  Without waiting another second, he looked away from Law and started for the hallway.

  He needed to figure out what to do. Needed to figure out who this woman was, if she was a threat to Hope. If she was, it wouldn’t matter if it ruined their relationship, he’d do what he had to do to get his hands on that fucking gun.

  But for now, he was just going to get Hope out of here and see if he couldn’t do something to help get that miserable unhappiness out of her pretty green eyes.

  His gut in a knot, Law watched as the door closed behind Hope and Remy.

  Part of him wanted to tell the bastard to shove it up his ass.

  Part of him wanted to tell Hope to chill the fuck out.

  Part of him wanted to find his keys and go find Nia … the sheriff would know more about her.

  But the biggest part of him felt half sick. What in the hell had he just done?

  Groaning, he leaned back against the wall and slammed his head into it. What in the hell?

  A gun. A fucking gun. A loaded one, too, because he’d checked right before he’d stashed it, tucking it out of Remy’s sight. She’d come here with a loaded gun and he’d seen it in her eyes—she could have used it.

  Rubbing the back of one shaking hand over his mouth, he muttered, “She won’t, though.”

  Not now. He was as certain of that as he was of his own name.

  But he knew he couldn’t explain that to Hope, and even if he could, he couldn’t expect her to understand.

  How could he expect that? He didn’t even understand why he’d decided to protect a total stranger, even though he’d hurt his best friend in the process.

  What was worse, though … he knew he’d do it again. There was something about that woman …

  “Shit, Hope. I’m sorry.”

  He’d just used his best friend. And hurt her. She’d been hurt far too much, and more than anybody else, he knew it.

  CHAPTER

  FOURTEEN

  HOPE STARED AT NOTHING, TRIED TO THINK ABOUT nothing as Remy drove his silver Jaguar away from Law’s house.

  He didn’t head toward town, but just then, she didn’t care.

  The wind whipped through the short strands of her hair, stinging her eyes.

  “You okay?”

  “I’m fine,” she said automatically.

  “No, you’re not.”

  Glancing over at Remy, she grimaced. “Okay, I’m not. But I’m not about to have a panic attack and I’m not going to go on a crying jag, either. I won’t start leaking all over you again, promise.”

  He reached over and rubbed the back of her neck. “Did I say I minded?”

  “You’re too much a gentleman to say you mind, even if you do,” she murmured. Sighing, she leaned her aching head against the headrest. “Can we just do this day over again, from the get-go?”

  “Will you and Law be okay?”

  “Yeah. At least I don’t see why we wouldn’t.” She shot him a glance from under her lashes. “But don’t ask me to … whatever, Remy. I can’t. Not with Law.”

  He sighed. “Yeah. I know. And I won’t. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to figure out what in the hell is going on with this woman. Showing up at a person’s house with a loaded gun—not exactly a ringing endorsement of her solid mental state.”

  Hope started to laugh. “Solid mental state?”

  A dull red flush stained his cheeks red. “What I mean is—”

  “Relax.” She reached over and patted his thigh. The muscles tightened under her hand and she yanked her hand back fast. “I know what you mean. She’s not crazy, though. She was pissed. And grieving. But not crazy.”

  “Hope …”

  She slid him a look. “She’s not.”

  “And you’re willing to risk your neck over that?”

  “Hell. Law is.” Then she rubbed her temple. “And I trust him more than I trust myself sometimes. Besides …” Her voice trailed off as her mind wandered back to a time in her life she’d rather forget.

  There was a look in a person’s eye. A certain look. That woman, she hadn’t had it.

  “I know what crazy is, Remy. Once you’ve seen it, dealt with it, lived it … you don’t forget it. She’s not crazy.”

  Hope was still chilled to the bone, and still pissed off at Law, but in her gut, she suspected he was right. The woman wasn’t crazy. Didn’t necessarily mean she would sleep easy at night for a while, but …

  Pushing that thought aside, she shifted in the seat and focused on Remy. “So what brought you out here today?”

  “Didn’t I already tell you that?” He flashed her a grin. “I wanted to buy you lunch.”

  “You just bought me lunch. Actually, I think you’ve bought me lunch like six times in the past two weeks.” She smiled over at him.

  “Is there a rule saying I can’t do it again today?” He hit his blinker and started to slow down.

  Hope glanced over and then winced, shooting her clothes a look. “The Inn? I’m not dressed for this place.”

  “You look fine.”

  “No. I don’t.”

  “Does that mean you want to leave?”

  She looked at him. He’d do it, she thought.

  Turn around if she asked.

  He would look completely in place in the Inn. And he wasn’t the least bit concerned that she was wearing a T-shirt that had never fit her well, and a plain pair of jeans.

  What was he doing with her? What in the world was he doing with her?

  As the butterflies in her belly winged around, she forced a smile. “No. This is fine.”

  What did it matter what she wearing?

  Remy wasn’t worried if she wasn’t impeccably groomed, and it didn’t matter so much to her, either.

  If neither of them cared, what did it matter?

  He watched as the silver Jaguar pulled out of sight.

  Then he looked back at the house, the rage a hot, greasy ball in his gut.

  She was making a mistake … such a mistake.

  Idly, Joey reached down, stroked the butt of his gun.

  He had been tempted as the lawyer walked Hope to the car.

  It wouldn’t take much.

  Not from here.

  Put a bullet in his head, then hers.

  Not immediately, for his wife—he’d wait a few minutes, watch as she screamed when her lover fell dead to the ground.

  But not yet.

  Behind him, he heard a whisper of sound.

  Tensing, he eased deeper into the shadows, keeping his back pressed against the trunk of an ancient oak and studying the perimeter for some sign of movement. Something out of place.

  Nothing.

  Probably just a deer.

  But just in case …

  He scanned the area, made sure he hadn’t left any sign of himself, and then he left, moving slowly but surely.

  It wouldn’t do to get caught, to be seen.

  They had to pay for humiliating him like this.

  All three of them.

  Reilly and the lawyer were going to die.

  At first, he’d planned on just taking Hope back to Clinton with him, but now, he didn’t know. Lately, he’d been thinking more and more about killing her. He didn’t want some whore—the sloppy seconds left behind by Reilly and the lawyer.

  Plans.
/>
  He needed to make his plans, and stay out of sight while he did it.

  Fortunately, he had the perfect place.

  He’d come to see her.

  But he wasn’t the only one watching her. And that man watching Hope wanted to do her harm, he suspected. He realized he didn’t like that idea. Not at all.

  As the man disappeared into the woods, he remained hidden in the shadows. He’d grown up in these woods and he knew them well. No stranger could hope to find him if he didn’t want to be found.

  Once the man disappeared, he retreated.

  He’d have to look for Hope later.

  He had his own work he needed to see to, after all, and he’d wasted too much time playing statue in the woods while that bastard played peeping Tom.

  He’d be back to check on Hope later … check on her, watch over her.

  The poor girl had been through hell lately. Such a fighter. Such a determined little thing. And she’d seemed like such a mouse.

  For some reason, he found himself undeniably drawn to her.

  After lunch was cleared, Hope leaned back and patted her belly. “Man, that was good,” she murmured.

  She was surprised she’d been able to eat.

  “So what are you doing the rest of the day?”

  Glancing across the table at Remy, she shrugged. “I don’t know. Avoiding Law, because I don’t feel like talking to him. I’ve got stuff I need to do—errands and crap. Guess I’ll do that.”

  “Is it stuff you need to do today?”

  “Well, no.” She gave him a faint smile and hoped he wouldn’t ask what she did—she still wasn’t sure what she was supposed to say if he asked. He wasn’t going to buy the semi-truths Law had told her to use, and she wasn’t going to lie to him about it.

  They’d been going out for two weeks now, and it hadn’t come up. She knew it was going to, sooner or later, and she needed an answer.

  Just not right now …

  “If nothing has to be done right away, why don’t you spend the day with me?”

  Hope cocked a brow. “Ah, don’t you have stuff to do? I thought lawyers were generally pretty busy.”

  He shrugged. Remy was busier than hell. But that look in her eyes? He knew that look. It was dread. She dreaded going back to Law’s right now and if he could help distract her until some of that tension melted away, then he would do it.