Page 45 of Caught By the Chief of Staff

“It’s okay,” I interrupt him, even though we both know it’s not.

“It’s not.” He lets out a heavy sigh. “Let’s go inside.”

Rick pushes open his door and steps out of the car. I unbuckle my seatbelt and follow his actions, hoping my instincts haven’t led me astray. He waits for me at the back of the car, holding his hand out to me. I take it without hesitation, something that makes his face soften just a bit. I guess wondering if I trusted him or not was weighing on him more than I knew.

He leads me out of the barn before stopping to let go of my hand and pull the heavy doors closed. And then he takes my hand in his again and leads me up the back porch of the old but well-maintained house.

“Rick?” I ask.

But he holds his finger up to his lips, silencing me. “If I tell you to, you run.”

I don’t know what to say to that, so I just nod before he leaves me standing on the porch while he pulls the gun out of the back of his slacks, looking more than a little lethal. It’s easy to see how he was such a decorated SEAL.

I wait for what seems like hours but was probably only a few minutes for him to search the house for who knows what, and I can’t stand it. Finally, he puts me out of my misery, but I damn near jump out of my skin when he finally shows back up. I’m not cut out for this kind of life, and I’m from New Jersey, so that’s saying something.

“It’s all clear,” he says, pushing open the door for me. “You can come on in now.”

I nod and pass through the open door into a homey looking country kitchen. It’s laid out a lot like the kitchen at my house. The house Rick bought for me. He must have some kind of thing for open concept and a lot of light, but now isn’t really the time for interior design. I wonder whose house this is, not for the first time, and also what we’re doing here.

“Rick?” I prompt again.

“Have a seat, Cara,” he says gently, pointing to the oak table and chairs in the corner of the kitchen. I do as he asks, thinking to myself that if he wanted to kill me, there’s no one here to stop him, so I might as well just get it over with.

“Where are we?” I ask quietly. It’s too quiet, and we both notice the change. His face contorts back to that angry expression again.

“Jesus fuck, Cara, I’m not going to hurt you,” he bites out.

“I know that,” I whisper, looking away from him as he runs a frustrated hand through his hair.

“Do you?” he roars, making me flinch, which makes him even angrier. I don’t understand what’s going on or why he’s so mad at me, all I know is that I’m scared. But I also know that Rick, no matter how mad, would never lay a hand on me.

“Yes,” I say, rolling my shoulders back. I mean the words that I say to him. I think I just needed a minute to come to terms with what I already knew. Rick is upset, but he would never harm me. “I do.”

“Fine,” he says after a minute, when he pulls up a chair at the table.

“Where are we?” I ask again. This time, Rick turns his full attention to me, his dark eyes seeing more than I’m probably comfortable with, but this time, they don’t scare me.

“My grandparents’ house,” he answers with the last thing I thought he would say. “They’ve been gone a long time. I keep the place for emergencies. No one knows it’s here.”

“Why are we here?” I ask, feeling more and more frustrated by the second. I hate that Rick has been badgering me for months to spill my secrets, while he ekes out information one tiny grain at a time.

“We needed a safe space to call in the cavalry,” he answers. “The others will be here soon. It’s time we laid it all out on the table.”

“O-okay,” I stammer. I think I know where this is going, and suddenly I feel really nervous. My belly flips over and over, and I’m sweaty everywhere. I think I liked it better when I thought he was going to kill me.

“Start talking,” he orders.

“I was afraid you’d say that.”