8. Pres
8
PRES
“You don't have any clue who's after you?” She shakes her head. Her eyes are already a little glazed from the beer she had earlier and now the shots.
She blinks, and it’s like she had forgotten about the shit she’s been through the last few days. I feel bad for even bringing it up again. “No.”
The front doors open, and on instinct, I turn to see who it is. Nash, one of the guys that works with Walker at the compound across the street, is walking into the bar. As soon as he spots me, he walks over toward us, and I know exactly why he's here. He stands behind us, between Allison and me.
"Walker's out of town, but I told him I'd come by and talk to you." He turns to Allison. "Hi, you must be Allison."
She rears back in surprise, and I put a hand on her knee. "It's fine. He's one of us. Well, sort of," I say.
Nash holds his hand out to her. "I'm Nash," he says. She takes it and gives him a small shake.
As soon as he drops her hand, he starts, "I'm sorry for your loss."
She looks between Nash and me. "Did you know my husband?"
Nash says, "No. Have you ever heard of a Bruno Heplar?"
Allison nods her head. Letting go of the empty shot glass, she binds her hands together and puts them in her lap. "He was an investor in one of my husband's side businesses. Why? Do you think he's the one that did this?"
Nash looks at me, and I give him a nod, letting him know that it's okay to tell her whatever he has to say. “He was shown on one of your home cameras to arrive at your house 30 minutes before you got there.”
Allison's mouth drops. "You mean the day my husband was killed?" She has a full-body shiver. "I didn't see him there. Wait, the police said there was no footage, that the cameras were not working."
Nash nods his head as if that's information he already knows. "We're looking into that. The reason that I'm here is because Walker asked me to set up a safe house and take you to it. We thought—"
I sit up straighter in my chair and don't let Nash get any further. I interrupt him and hold both my hands up for Nash to stop talking. "She's not leaving."
I level Nash with a stare, but he doesn't take offense. He turns to Allison, who is watching me. "You want to stay?" He holds his hand up when I open my mouth to intervene. "I'll vouch for Kane here. He will keep you safe. He's trained to protect you. Walker told me to set up a safe house, and that's what I did."
Allison drags her eyes from mine to Nash. "I don't know who this Walker is."
"He's the man in charge of finding your husband's killer."
Allison turns to me. "It sounds like I'm probably dangerous to be around if I need a safe house."
I shrug and don't even blink. “I can handle it.”
I can see the question in her eyes. I know she's wondering why I'm insisting that she stay. We just met. But even knowing that, I know that I can't let her go. No one will protect her like I can. She looks at Nash, and I hold my breath, waiting for her response. "I'll stay with Kane," she tells him.
I'm not ready to think about why that makes me happy. I’m sure I’m reading more into it than I should be.
Nash pulls his business card from his wallet and hands it to her. "If you think of anything that you think would help the case, give me a call, or if you decide you need somewhere else to go, we can handle it. I'll be in touch."
I nod my head as Nash walks away. It's only once he is out the doors that Allison finishes off the last of her shots.