Read Online Faith, Honor & Freedom by Shannon Callahan - Free Book Online Page B

months. Maybe I was wrong, though; maybe he has changed. I feel a twinge of jealousy, but quickly push it aside. It’s not my place to be jealous. Never has been, and never will be. I mark the email as unread, and exit out of the program. I continue to clean, until a grumpy looking Hoss storms into his office.
    “Let’s go,” he orders, looking around. “What the hell did you do to my office?”
    “You’re welcome,” I say sarcastically. I never expected an elated Hoss, but a thank you would have been nice. Especially after the night I’ve had.
    “Thanks,” he says dryly. “Now grab your phone, and let’s go.” I pick up my phone and follow him out of his office, and then out of the station.
    “I’m guessing that didn’t go well,” I say as I pull on my seatbelt inside his truck.
    “Once again, I’ve got zilch. I’m at a loss and pissed off. She wasn’t seeing anybody, hadn’t said she met anyone suspicious, and so far, there’s not much at the crime scene, aside from the fact that he didn’t have time to brutally beat her first.”
    I cringe at the thought of what poor Jenny must have gone through. Her last moments on this Earth were spent in fear and pain. I glance out the window, wondering if I’ll miss out on all of the same things she did. Jenny was never married, never had kids of her own, and now she would never have the chance. I could die tomorrow, and have missed out on everything as well. It just doesn’t seem fair.
    I pull away from my thoughts and notice that Hoss isn’t headed in the direction of my house. Where the hell is he going?
    “You honestly can’t be hungry again, Weston,” I joke. He lets out a small groan and shifts uncomfortably in his seat. Well, maybe he can be.
    “Nope.”
    “Well, where are we going?” I ask.
    “My condo.”
    “Why? Can’t you drop me off first?” I ask, confused.
    “Jenny was killed on your street tonight. There’s no way you’re sleeping there alone,” he says, a little angrily.
    “Hoss, I’ve got the stupid security system you had installed at the house, I’ll be fine,” I promise, before wondering if that’s actually true. Truth be told, I’m a little on edge and sitting in my house all night, worrying, doesn’t exactly sound all that appealing.
    “Which would be great, if you ever turned it on.”
    “I will, pinky promise.”
    “Come on, Lana. You can have my bed, and I’ll sleep on the couch. Please, just give me this. Let me know you’re safe.” The way he says it pulls at my heart. I know he’s thinking back to Rhett—he couldn’t protect him the day he was killed, and I know it eats him alive. I’ve tried to get him to talk to someone about it, but he refuses.
    “If you think I’m sleeping on the same bed dozens of dirty pussies have slobbered on, you are very, very wrong. I’ll take the couch.”
    Hoss grumbles, but I know I’ve got him there. We park in the underground parking lot in his building, and take the elevator up to his condo. It’s beautiful inside; everything is sleek, black, stainless steel, and leather. It’s definitely a bachelor pad. I take off my shoes and walk into his kitchen, which is just off his front entryway. The cupboards are black, and the tiles behind them are shiny chrome. The countertops are black granite, mixed with tiny flecks of silver, and the appliances are stainless steel. Together, it looks phenomenal. Sometimes I wish my house was this modern. I mean my house isn’t super dated or anything, but it’s worn in and could probably use an upgrade. I have no idea where to even start, though, and it feels wrong changing the last real piece of Rhett I have.
    “Drink?” I ask Hoss, as I reach under the island and into his wine fridge. Strangely enough it’s never stocked with wine. Hoss likes whiskey, but always keeps a bottle of my favorite gin on hand since Rhett died. We spent plenty of nights here drowning our sorrows.
    “Yeah,” he replies.
    I grab two glasses from