Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Elizabeth
W e pulled into Silverton a little past five and arrived at Jack’s gorgeous home in the swankiest Silver Ridge neighborhood ten minutes later. Each house we’d passed once we’d entered the gated community, complete with guard station security seemed larger than the next. Surprisingly, Jack’s wasn’t the biggest, though it had a down-to-earth quality, likely more aesthetic than it was actually homey.
I focused on these details and not on the still-simmering rage I felt in the wake of Kenny’s story.
This sweet man had been so mistreated, and it made me want to?—
Honestly, it made me want to burn something down. Or get violent. And I didn’t tend to be a physically reactive person.
On the whole, I was even-keeled. I handled stress well and compartmentalized like a pro, because I was one. I’d been doing it since I was a teen, and I’d perfected it once I joined the agency after graduating from Georgetown.
But something about Kenny Carmichael being so completely betrayed by everyone in his family, save his little nephew, incensed me. I hadn’t felt so viscerally angry in a long, long time.
I’d hugged him because I’d been compelled to. And I wasn’t a hugger. I just… I’d needed to press him close and reassure myself he was all in one piece, even though he’d said as much. When he’d talked about what happened, he hadn’t seemed destroyed. It was that hollow expression, the way his energy and light seemed to dry up in the minute and a half we stood near his family. It gutted me.
I pushed away the memory of his empty eyes in that moment and focused on unloading the bags.
“This house is smaller than the one in LA,” Evie said conversationally to Jack.
“Right? It’s so modest.”
The humor in Jack’s voice was evident even though I couldn’t see his face. Evie’s response came fast.
“I’m just glad I’m not on staff here.”
Ah. We hadn’t pried into their relationship, but I’d gathered there was a working relationship and also a disparity between lifestyles. Evie didn’t seem destitute, but it was clear Jack was heading up this move, and she was at least a little uncomfortable with his funding the trip, but anxious enough about getting away from her abuser that she’d acquiesced.
Jack didn’t speak, but as I rounded the corner with Evie’s bag, I saw him holding her hand with both of his.
“You’re going to be okay. We’re going to get you settled, find you work, set up a life you can live to the fullest. You’ re a wonderful person, Evie, and you’re going to have a wonderful life.”
She sniffed, nodded, and swiped at the tears gathering in her eyes.
“Ready to head inside? Kenny said it’s all clear.”
He’d texted to say as much after checking in. We’d actually beaten his household staff here, so Kenny had met Cookie at the door and they’d done a sweep before we brought Jack and Evie in.
In minutes, Jack’s entourage arrived, a much less flashy crew than I’d expected—one woman who looked to be in her early sixties, another somewhere in her forties, and someone who Kenny and Cookie seemed to recognize as a local doctor. Cookie would hang back and provide on-site security since part of this curious expedition had been leaving Jack’s California crew in LA.
“Let’s get gone,” Kenny said, shooting a finger gun at me.
“Okay, cool guy,” I said, a silent laugh following it. For a man who’d been mired in heavy emotion hours ago, he was practically skipping down Jack’s front walk.
When we both clicked our seatbelts at the same time, he grinned over at me.
“Have you ever noticed we do a lot of things exactly in sync?”
I searched my mind. “Never prior to this moment.”
He started up the car and reversed out of the drive, then navigated to the front of the neighborhood, giving a chin nod or finger lift or full out wave to every car and person checking their mailbox we passed.
“Do you know all those people, or are you that friendly?” I wondered aloud.
“Most I know personally to some degree. One or two are just familiar, and this is a small enough town that you sort of acknowledge the regulars. This isn’t a tourist zone, so it’s fair to say if someone’s through the gates, they’re home.”
They’re home. Why did it always come back to home with him? I wondered if he even noticed how often he said the word, let alone conveyed that Silverton had some kind of magical quality that made it special for home-making.
“Sounds nice.” The words came under my breath but he heard them.
“It is nice. Better than, actually. Probably because I grew up in a trailer park with a family that, in the end, doesn’t like me very much, I value the feeling of belonging in a place more than the average bear.”
A quick glance showed me his sunny expression—eyes taking in the streets ahead and naturally smiling lips curved up a touch as usual.
“I’m not sure it’s more than others, but I can see why you like it. Saint’s a little family, Silverton’s this place you love… I’m happy for you.”
His smile broadened. “Thanks. And what do we do about you, Lizzy?”
“No. Only people blood-related to me call me that.” Though I didn’t completely mind it. And I wasn’t about to interrogate that thought right now.
He held up his hands, a gesture of innocence. “Fair enough. Can I call you Liz?”
Something in his expression shifted, an almost shy bent to his gaze. It wasn’t the hurt from earlier or the brash smile or the flirty guy… this one made me feel a tenderness I didn’t expect. “Uh, yeah, sure.”
He’d called me Liz on the mission years back. He’d asked me— Liz —out. I didn’t have anyone else in my life who called me Liz—family called me Lizzy and work colleagues called me Elizabeth.
What did it say that those were the two main groups in my life? I didn’t have that third category—friends.
“Most people call you Elizabeth, right?” he asked, perceptive as usual.
“People from work. It’s how I introduce myself.” Why did saying this make me feel so squirmy? Why did my skin flash hot, like someone had shifted a spotlight onto me?
“And friends?”
I coughed, a fake grab for time he’d no doubt recognize as a delaying tactic, but it happened nonetheless. “I guess they call me Liz.”
His smile started small, a drop in a lake, then expanded and grew, rippling out until it felt like his entire being was beaming over at me.
“That’s what I like to hear.”
It should’ve concerned me how much his approval and joy made me happy, too.
“Good,” I said, shifting awkwardly and keeping my eyes away from his sunshiny face.
“And so, as your friend, I need to show you around. Give you the best chance at getting to know Silverton.”
I scowled even as my heart slipped. “Jo can show me. Or my dad.”
He shrugged a shoulder. “Eh. They could. But we both have tomorrow off, and I bet you neither of them does. Let me show you around tomorrow, at least. Give you something to do on a day off.” He glanced over at me, but his attention slid back to the road.
He couldn’t know I was dreading the day without anything to do. I could go see Jane, whom I liked, but she had a way of seeing right through me and I didn’t feel like dealing with that right now.
“That could work…” I said, perpetually cagey with making plans.
Part of me wanted to curl up with a book and some coffee and not move. But lately, doing this pressed down on me and caused a weighty, oppressive sensation. It was old school body armor with the high neck collar and it had the potential to suffocate.
“Oh, it’ll work. Perfect. And since I know you heard me raving about the donuts, we’re starting at Glazed.”
I hadn’t had a good donut in a while. Europeans just didn’t do donuts the same way the US did, and I couldn’t deny the draw of having this deeply enthusiastic person show me the ropes of what must be one of his favorite places based on the way he seemed to buzz with energy now that we’d made the plans.
“Alright, then. You can show me the world of Glazed.”
“Great. Then it’s a—” he cleared his throat. “Plan.”
Right.
A friendly plan.