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31

Cameron

San Diego, six weeks after the shootout

Mostmornings,Iranalong the sidewalk by the beach. It helped a little. I slept better if I could physically exhaust myself by the end of the day. Even with the exercise, I woke often and had disturbing dreams of being chased, the car crash, or being back in that basement with Shep, only we didn’t get away. When I sat up in bed, terrified and alone, I missed my bossy hitman more than ever.

Today as I returned, sweaty and wheezing, I spotted a familiar black Harley Davidson parked in the driveway and Kane sitting on the steps below my front door. He rose to greet me, flashing one of his stellar smiles. He might look like a modern-day, badass Viking warrior, but when he beamed, it was a thing of beauty.

Despite being out of breath, I managed a smile for him as I approached. “Hey, Kane.”

“Jesus, girl. Did you run to LA and back? You look like you’re dying.” He walked toward me and leaned down for a hug, even though I smelled awful.

“Just added an extra mile to my loop.” I wiped the sweat from my brow.

He rested his hands on his hips and gave me the same stern look Tom did when he worried about me. “You still not sleeping right?”

I shrugged and headed for the door. “Sometimes. Nice hickey by the way.” I gestured to his muscular neck, exposed because his shoulder-length blond hair was pulled into a low pony.

His brows shot up and he rubbed the bruise. “Fuck, really?”

“You bagged yourself a wild one last night.” I laughed and unlocked the apartment door.

Kane followed me in. “Damn. Should’ve got her number. And her name.”

It didn’t surprise me he did well with the ladies. Although bearded, built, and covered in tatts, Kane was sweet and deceptively charming. The women he bedded had no clue he was an ex-SEAL and the best sniper stateside. I’d weaseled those details out of him suspecting Kane was one of Shep’s Team Zulu buddies. But like Shep, he kept his military career private and didn’t let anyone get too close.

Kane and I had become friends even though he’d tried to resist. One day early on, I came out of a supermarket and spotted a guy matching his description sitting on a Harley. I’d noticed him a few days before because although I was heartbroken, I wasn’t blind, and Kane was a damn fine sight seated on his black beast.

On a whim, I dialed Kane’s number and watched as the man on the Harley checked the screen of his cell, then looked right at me. When he kept staring, I waved, walked over to his bike, and invited him over for coffee. He declined because he’d been warned not to fraternize with his client. What a load of horse shit. I wondered if Shep thought Kane might be a rebound distraction for me. Not likely. Another man was the last thing I wanted.

Every time I spotted Kane, I’d made a point of starting up a conversation, and despite his protests that Shep would murder him in his sleep, he caved and accepted my offer of coffee. We’d been hanging out ever since.

At first, my intention had been to push him for information on Shep, but Kane’s laid-back attitude and roguish sense of humor had sealed our friendship.

Kane tossed his leather jacket on the sofa, and we headed for the kitchen.

“Your usual?” I asked over my shoulder.

“Yeah, thanks.”

He sat at the breakfast bar while I made an espresso using the apartment’s fancy machine. I took a bottle of water for myself.

“Any news from back east?” I scanned his face for any telltale signs as I placed the strong black in front of him.

He shook his head. “Shit, Cam, you know I’m not supposed to say anything.”

“Yeah, but you know I’ve got to ask.” I gulped down water. “He’s still alive, right?”

Kane nodded.

“And I’ve seen nothing in the news about Shep being a suspect for the shootout investigation. So that has to be good, yeah?” I didn’t know how he’d managed it, but so far, Shep had stayed off the cops’ radar.

Kane shrugged and held his palms up. “I don’t know, maybe. He doesn’t talk to me about that stuff.”

I braced my hands on the white marble counter. “Whatdoeshe talk to you about?”

Does he ask about me?