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This guy is dangerous.
With a capital D.
He’s just standing there, looking at us, a glass in each hand, and I can see it.
Kill-you-with-a-paperclip dangerous.
Snap-your-neck-and-then-go-make-a-sandwich dangerous.
And hot.
I mean, seriously holy shit hot.
Dark hair. Dark eyes. Military cut. Lean, angular jaw. Rough-looking hands, the back of his left covered in scars that crawl up his wrist to disappear into the sleeve of his dress uniform.
That’s when it hits me.
He knows my name.
Seems to know me.
I take it all in. The scars. The uniform. The steely-eyed I kill for a living glare. Adding it all up, I solve the case.
This is Henley’s brother.
Ryan.
Henley is Tess’s friend.
Tess is Cari’s friend.
Cari is my sister.
That should make this guy safe, right?
Even though that’s how it’s supposed to go, I don’t buy it.
There is nothing safe about this guy.
Not even a little bit.