Read Online Waking Nightmare by Kylie Brant - Free Book Online Page B

the bag and grabbing a broom tucked into the corner. The policemen were gone, no doubt dismissed by Robel. If she’d had her preference, she’d have taken their presence over his.
    If she had her choice, he’d never have come at all.
    “I can patch that window for you.”
    “It’s okay.” Aware her tone had been short, Abbie softened it. “Thanks, but I can take care of it. Tomorrow I’ll call a glass company to come do a permanent fix.”
    “And a security company. Whoever did this could return. Next time they might damage more than just your shirts.”
    “And a security company,” she repeated, straightening to face him. She’d have agreed to just about anything at that point to get rid of him. To be alone with the worry that had lodged in her chest ever since seeing her closet.
    His gaze searched hers, but she kept her expression blank. She knew that fact didn’t escape him, but he said only, “I think I’ve got some things in the trunk to fix the window.”
    “That really isn’t . . .” He was already walking through the door.
    Frustrated, she used the handle of the broom to knock out the remaining shards of glass from the pane. His stubbornness wasn’t exactly a newsflash, given their association up to this point. But somehow right now she found it even more irritating.
    She finished sweeping up the glass and dumped it in the trash bag. Then, when he approached the back porch again, she went back to the living room and picked up the displaced pictures. The glass in each had been cracked by the fall, so she removed each picture from the frame and discarded the ruined glass. Then she replaced the photos on the mantle.
    “All done.”
    She turned when the voice sounded behind her. “That was fast.”
    Ryne approached. “Just some cardboard and duct tape. It won’t hold long. Don’t put off calling that glass company.”
    “I won’t.”
    He passed by her to study the pictures. Nerves skittered along her spine. It was ridiculous to feel exposed as he perused the only faintly personal touch in the entire room. Ridiculous to feel weak, as if his learning anything about her left her vulnerable in a way she was always careful to avoid.
    He tapped the unsmiling man next to her in one picture. “Who’s this?”
    “Adam Raiker.”
    “I remember reading about his last case for the Bureau. Caught by the serial killer he was pursuing, right?”
    Although she doubted she knew much more than he did, she said, “Wilson Corbin. Raiker rescued his hostage, but Corbin got away. Adam pursued him and ended up being captured. He was held for three days before he managed to get free and kill the man, despite his injuries.” And the injuries Raiker had sustained had been substantial. That was clear from the picture, even after nearly seven years. A hideous scar bisected his throat. The cane he walked with was clutched in one hand, the eye patch he wore giving him a formidable look. It was an accurate enough depiction of his personality. Adam Raiker was the most formidable person she’d ever met, with a staggering intellect, caustic tongue, and incomparable talent. She considered herself fortunate to be working for him, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t intimidated by him.
    Abbie turned away from the photos, but Robel failed to take the hint and follow suit. Big surprise.
    “Looks like you’ve got hidden talents.”
    Reluctantly, she turned back, following his gaze to the center picture, taken last summer at the shooting range on the grounds of the agency’s headquarters, in Manassas, Virginia. It showed her unsmiling face next to a paper human outline. Six holes were clustered in the vicinity of the heart. “Raiker insists we qualify as marksmen each year.” He was also adamant that his operatives be issued weapon permits from any law enforcement agency requesting their services. “I posted a personal best last August.”
    “Rifle or handgun?”
    “This was the handgun qualifier, but we have to qualify