21. Strike
Strike
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
He’d been repeating that for most of the last hour of the drive.
When he’d told Liss in passing he’d joined the army for love, he’d never expected her to meet Millie and realise she was who he’d been referring to. He’d never told her not to share it, and normally, he loved that she was the biggest meddler, as long as she wasn’t meddling in his life.
Maybe it was for the best Millie knew, because he was keeping enough secrets as it was.
Cam attempted to turn on the radio. Strike grunted, and his hand recoiled.
He couldn’t tell Millie why’d he left, and in his heart, he wasn’t sure she actually wanted to know. He’d be dropping a bomb on her family relationships, and they were all she had.
He only needed to keep his secrets a little longer. Once Millie gave a statement, this could be over, and she’d be out of his life.
Strike checked his phone and growled.
Liss: You’ll thank me one day.
Strike tapped his reply so hard he kept missing the letters.
Strike: I hate you.
Liss: And I love you, too.
He slammed his palm on the dashboard. Cam veered into the wrong lane.
“Are you trying to kill us?” Strike snapped.
“Finally, someone speaks. I was losing the battle with my overthinking,” Millie stuttered from the back seat.
Strike turned. Her lips were red, like she’d spent the hour chewing on them. They should be running through her statement for the police, but that meant talking, and if she spoke, she might ask what Liss meant, and then…
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
He turned back to face the front. Hearing her speak to her overprotective brother was bad enough. Dexter hadn’t wanted them to be together years ago, and her mum would be livid that Millie was with Strike now.
“I finally get to meet Casey? It’s about time,” Cam said, butting into Strike’s thoughts. “I’ve got a thing for women with handcuffs.”
Millie’s laugh slipped out. Cam winked at her in the rearview mirror.
“Cam,” Strike warned.
“Chill out, boss,” he said, overemphasising the last word. “You’re grumpier than ever.”
“Why is that?” Millie replied.
Strike stared at her, unable to resist the pull of her dark eyes. He’d seen them every night in his dreams, but nothing compared to the reality.
His gaze dropped to her red lips as she added, “What’s changed?”
Cam teased, “Yeah, Strike, what’s changed?” Strike whipped back around and scowled. “One minute, you’re giddier than Liss eating Bear’s homemade cookies, and the next, you’re stropping about. Something’s changed in the last two days, and I can’t imagine what it is.”
“You used to respect my authority. That’s changed.”
Cam tapped his chin with one finger. “No. That’s not it.”
“I can fire you, you know.”
“I’d love to be at that disciplinary meeting,” Millie said, earning a wider grin from Cam.
Fantasies Strike had only told his therapist reared as he remembered Millie’s favourite dark romances. Anxiety about the trip to the police station dulled his usual filter. “Why? To watch me dominate the situation?” he grunted, turning in his seat to look at her.
Her face instantly reddened as she locked his stare. The pulse in her throat fluttered, demanding his full attention. She gripped her seatbelt as she sucked in a breath.
“No,” she stuttered. “Because your reason for firing him would be ridiculous. Do you like being a dominant man?”
Strike shrugged. Millie twisted a wave of hair between her fingers. He set his jaw, trying not to imagine those fingers drifting across his skin, skimming his abs before wrapping around his dick.
“Also,” Millie continued, “how dirty is your brain that it went there? Like seriously, are you always thinking about sex?”
“I didn’t mention sex,” he mumbled. Why did the lack of control make him imagine earning her sexually?
It wasn’t like he could work the anxiety out in the gym right now.
He needed to get this out of his head. Even though Millie loved books where women were chased by masked men, it didn’t mean it extended to her own sex life.
“Strike thinking about sex?” Cam asked Millie. “He hasn’t told you how he got his nickname, then.”
Millie’s scrutinising stare flickered between the two bodyguards.
“Shut it,” Strike grunted.
Millie leaned forward between the gap in the seats. Her floral scent today had a kick of something spicy. It filled the air between them and caressed his skin. “Why is he called Strike?”
“How’s your sister, Cam?” Strike’s voice echoed.
Millie muttered, “Not the subtle subject change I’d have expected.”
Cam glanced at Millie through his rearview mirror. “Ava’s the youngest of the four of us. And she’s tricky and… troublesome.”
“In what way?”
“She moved away. She’s travelling in Europe alone. I’ve barely seen her during the last eighteen months. She’s fiercely independent and never answers when we call.”
“How do you feel about that?” Millie asked.
There was something about watching Millie listen to people. She was the same with Stal. No one was immune to her kindness.
“I worry constantly. With a sister as future Queen and my knowledge of safety and the dangers in the world, I’m terrified something will happen. I insisted she put a tracker app on her phone, but she won’t.”
Millie nodded. “And what would you say if she asked you to have a tracker she could monitor?”
Strike smiled. Millie was clever when they were younger, but there was something new and appealing about this woman who challenged and supported in equal measure. And she made him laugh. He’d missed laughing.
Strike glanced at her hands. She wasn’t fiddling with anything. This was Millie in her happy space.
“I’d say she’s twenty-two and fresh out of university. I know how to be safe. I’ve had training. I understand risks, and I’m cautious, but…” His lips twisted into a variety of shapes. “I’d also say it’s none of her business.” Cam shook his head.
“You need to let her make decisions about her life,” Strike said softly.
Millie hid her smile behind her hand, but his heart jigged when the corners of her mouth tipped up behind it.
“Exactly. You’re allowed to be worried about her, Cam, but she’s entitled to freedom.
Have you given her other ways to be safe or suggested she check in occasionally?
She could learn self-defence or carry an alarm.
Liss gave me a self-defence lesson. I loved it. ”
“Ava does it all already.” They sat in silence for a moment. “But I worry. She’s a danger seeker who picks the wrong boyfriends. But you’re right. She’s savvy, and I’m ridiculous.”
“I didn’t say that. It’s okay to care about her, but you must trust her, too.”
“Thank you for listening.”
“That’s my job.”
“That’s your superpower,” Strike said before adding, “Thank you.”
Millie blushed, and he wanted to trace the pattern it made across her neck.
After a couple of minutes, Strike checked his phone. He reached for some items in his bag before announcing, “We’ll be at the police station in fifteen minutes.”
He offered Millie an old stress ball that had been filled with some sort of flour and water goo. “Obviously, we won’t see each other after this.”
“I’ll be out of your hair.” Her smile didn’t reach the corners of her mouth, let alone her eyes.
He forced a smile, too, although it probably resembled a grimace. She stared at it with a tilted head. He turned away, his heart crumpling into the pathetic, unused organ it was before her return in his life.
“You don’t want your other fidget tool back?” she asked.
“Something to remember me by.”
His jaw tightened as he stared out the windscreen.