Page 69 of Risky Obsession

She blinked at me like I’d proposed marriage. “Hell no. This attack proves that we’re onto something. We’re just getting started.”

I slowed down, and as I turned the car onto the road that took us back to the antique fair town, the stinging cuts on my back intensified. “In that case, we need to find Gunter again and get some answers out of him.”

“Exactly what I was thinking.” Her grin had an element of crazy in it.

Tory was keeping a hell of a lot from me.

I just hoped she hadn’t been lying to me all this time.

That would be a betrayal I couldn’t handle.

CHAPTER 15

Lacey/Tory

Iwoke up in the passenger seat of our parked rental car to pain pulsing through my body and my head pounding. The stiff leather seat pressed into my battered ribs, and the cold made my dislocated fingers ache like mad. The stillness beside me confirmed Kane was still asleep and the stale air in the car lingered with scents of sweat from last night’s attack and subsequent adrenaline rush and his delightful cologne.

I still couldn’t believe that attack happened. Just like when Grant Hughes had jumped me out of nowhere. It pissed me off that Kane noticed that bastard in our room last night before I’d seen him. I was a cop, trained to identify deadly situations, and in the space of a few weeks, I’d missed two massive ones.

The sun streamed down the ramp to the underground parking garage we’d parked our car in at two o’clock this morning. A sunbeam glinted off the windshield, blinding me, and I turned my head toward Kane. His eyelashes were long and dark, and his strong jaw was graced with a short beard that was trimmed to perfection.

His eyes fluttered open, and I offered a smile. “Hello, sleepyhead.”

Yawning, he attempted to stretch his back in the cramped space. “You been awake long?”

“About three minutes.”

“So, you did get some sleep. I wasn’t sure you would.” He drove his fingers through his thick hair.

“A few hours.”

“How are your wounds?”

I turned over my right hand. “My fingers are fine. How are yours?”

After we’d stopped last night, he asked me to check his back and although he had lots of tiny nicks, he was lucky none of them needed stitches. He had a slightly deeper cut on his foot, but again nothing serious.

He leveled his gaze at me. “I meant your other wounds.”

“I’m fine,” I lied, forcing a smile and ignoring the sharp sting in my chest that accompanied every breath.

He glared at me like I couldn’t possibly be fine.

The last thing I needed was him trying to protect me. I could handle myself, and I certainly didn’t need him distracting me with his caring eyes and amazing hugs. His embrace by the fire last night had just about been my undoing. And it pissed me off that he had seen my tears . . . tears that were triggered by my guilt over lying to him.

He placed his hands on the steering wheel. “I need a piss, and a coffee.”

I forced a giggle. “Hopefully not at the same time.”

Kane didn’t continue the joke like I thought he would. Instead, he started the engine and as we drove up the ramp of the underground parking garage, we both raised a hand to shield the morning sun from our eyes.

We swept our gaze to each other, and I laughed. But it hurt so much I gasped a breath.

“Like I said, sis. We’re a fine pair.” He wriggled his brows at me.

My jaw dropped. “I told you not to call me that.”

“And I don’t want you to pretend with me. I’ve had enough women who do that.”