Read Online Breaking Protocol (Firehouse Fourteen Book 3) by Lisa B. Kamps - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Lisa B. Kamps
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house.
Because of him.
"Shit." He raised the glass, thought better of it, then leaned forward and sat it on the coffee table. He ran his hands through his hair then glanced at CC. She was still sitting in the chair, her legs curled beneath her, watching him. "I'm sorry."
Her brows arched, either in surprise or in question, Dave didn't know. She took a sip of her own drink, her gaze never leaving his. "You're sorry for...?"
He wanted to look away from those clear bright eyes, afraid she'd see too much. But he didn't, he couldn't. "For all of it. For allowing this to happen here. For bringing you into it. For embarrassing you in front of your friends. For making them wonder what I was even doing here, so early in the morning."
CC watched him for a second, took another sip, then leaned forward and placed her glass next to his. When she looked back up at him, one corner of her mouth was tilted in a hint of a smile. "Wow, that's a lot to be sorry about."
"Well, I am."
"Hm. Why don't we start with point one? First, you didn't 'allow' this. That implies that you knew some whack doodle was going to show up here while you knowingly looked the other way while he did what he did. Second, you didn't bring me into this, the whack doodle did." He opened his mouth to interrupt, but she held her hand up in warning and leaned closer. "Third and fourth, what in the world do I have to be embarrassed about, and why would I care what any of them might think about you being here?"
"I—" Dave snapped his mouth closed, not knowing what to say. Any other person would be upset, or angry, or even a little fearful, if not outright scared. And they'd have every right to be. Hell, even he was worried about what was going on, because of the unknown of the entire situation. He couldn't believe that the woman sitting next to him was taking this whole thing in stride. "I can't believe none of this upsets you."
"I never said I wasn't upset." She briefly pursed her lips, then leaned over and placed a hand on his arm. "But I'm not upset with you ." She squeezed his arm then leaned over and grabbed his drink, handing it to him before she took hers.
He wanted to ask her what upset her, because to his eyes, at least, she didn't look the least bit upset. But she must have read his mind because she shifted in the chair and tilted her head, watching him.
"I know. I don't look upset. Trust me, I am. Some psycho was creeping around my house in the middle of the night, and I didn't even know it. That bothers me."
"I'm sorry. This is my fault. I should have never even come here."
"Let me ask you a question. Has your stalker ever followed you anywhere before? Left you notes like this anywhere else?"
A chill danced along his spine when he heard the word 'stalker'. And as much as he didn't want to admit it, he knew it was true. Something had changed, making this escalate from harassment to something much more sinister.
And he felt completely, utterly helpless and unprepared to deal with it.
CC was watching him and he realized he still hadn't answered her question. He shook his head. "No, never. Nothing like this. I told you, it's just been the text messages, all saying essentially the same thing."
"That you know of." It was a statement, not a question, and the implication sent icy shards through him.
"Yeah. That I know of. And now he knows where you live." Dave put his glass on the table then pushed himself out of the chair, the brandy forming a sour pool of acid in his gut. "I need to leave. I'm sorry."
CC's hand snaked out and closed around his wrist, stopping him. She stood up, standing closer to him, her hand sliding down until her fingers threaded through his. Her eyes were soft, understanding.
And he couldn't understand why.
"Where are you going?"
"Home, which is where I should have stayed last night."
"I see." Her fingers squeezed his then let go, but she didn't move away, just kept looking up at him. "And is that number five?"
"Five?" Dave
Because of him.
"Shit." He raised the glass, thought better of it, then leaned forward and sat it on the coffee table. He ran his hands through his hair then glanced at CC. She was still sitting in the chair, her legs curled beneath her, watching him. "I'm sorry."
Her brows arched, either in surprise or in question, Dave didn't know. She took a sip of her own drink, her gaze never leaving his. "You're sorry for...?"
He wanted to look away from those clear bright eyes, afraid she'd see too much. But he didn't, he couldn't. "For all of it. For allowing this to happen here. For bringing you into it. For embarrassing you in front of your friends. For making them wonder what I was even doing here, so early in the morning."
CC watched him for a second, took another sip, then leaned forward and placed her glass next to his. When she looked back up at him, one corner of her mouth was tilted in a hint of a smile. "Wow, that's a lot to be sorry about."
"Well, I am."
"Hm. Why don't we start with point one? First, you didn't 'allow' this. That implies that you knew some whack doodle was going to show up here while you knowingly looked the other way while he did what he did. Second, you didn't bring me into this, the whack doodle did." He opened his mouth to interrupt, but she held her hand up in warning and leaned closer. "Third and fourth, what in the world do I have to be embarrassed about, and why would I care what any of them might think about you being here?"
"I—" Dave snapped his mouth closed, not knowing what to say. Any other person would be upset, or angry, or even a little fearful, if not outright scared. And they'd have every right to be. Hell, even he was worried about what was going on, because of the unknown of the entire situation. He couldn't believe that the woman sitting next to him was taking this whole thing in stride. "I can't believe none of this upsets you."
"I never said I wasn't upset." She briefly pursed her lips, then leaned over and placed a hand on his arm. "But I'm not upset with you ." She squeezed his arm then leaned over and grabbed his drink, handing it to him before she took hers.
He wanted to ask her what upset her, because to his eyes, at least, she didn't look the least bit upset. But she must have read his mind because she shifted in the chair and tilted her head, watching him.
"I know. I don't look upset. Trust me, I am. Some psycho was creeping around my house in the middle of the night, and I didn't even know it. That bothers me."
"I'm sorry. This is my fault. I should have never even come here."
"Let me ask you a question. Has your stalker ever followed you anywhere before? Left you notes like this anywhere else?"
A chill danced along his spine when he heard the word 'stalker'. And as much as he didn't want to admit it, he knew it was true. Something had changed, making this escalate from harassment to something much more sinister.
And he felt completely, utterly helpless and unprepared to deal with it.
CC was watching him and he realized he still hadn't answered her question. He shook his head. "No, never. Nothing like this. I told you, it's just been the text messages, all saying essentially the same thing."
"That you know of." It was a statement, not a question, and the implication sent icy shards through him.
"Yeah. That I know of. And now he knows where you live." Dave put his glass on the table then pushed himself out of the chair, the brandy forming a sour pool of acid in his gut. "I need to leave. I'm sorry."
CC's hand snaked out and closed around his wrist, stopping him. She stood up, standing closer to him, her hand sliding down until her fingers threaded through his. Her eyes were soft, understanding.
And he couldn't understand why.
"Where are you going?"
"Home, which is where I should have stayed last night."
"I see." Her fingers squeezed his then let go, but she didn't move away, just kept looking up at him. "And is that number five?"
"Five?" Dave
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