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“Don’t you like stew, honey?” he asked her in that special way Lincoln used before to ease the tension, and especially with a woman. Conway nearly laughed when J.J. shot daggers at Lincoln as if she could kick his ass.

“Darlin’, we’re the good guys, remember? We’d like you to feel comfortable while you’re here. If there’s something you don’t like, then tell us. I can make something different for dinner.”

J.J. dropped her fork and stood up.

“I’m not hungry. You don’t need to cook for me. I don’t need anything. And as far as what I don’t like? Questions or bullshit.” She stepped away from the table and walked out of the room.

Calder let out a long whistle.

“Wow. You’re losing your touch, Lincoln,” Calder teased, and then took a bite full of beef stew.

Lincoln stared at the doorway, and then looked at Conway. Conway gave him a somewhat understanding expression. The woman was on the run and hiding. She sure as shit wasn’t going to trust them just because Sandman said to. Conway would need more information on her if she kept this up. He lifted his fork and began to eat. He couldn’t help but think about the sound of her rumbling stomach earlier. She was hungry, and maybe hadn’t eaten right in quite some time.

“Ease up and don’t ask her anything. She needs to eat,” Conway stated.

“You think she hasn’t eaten in a while or something?” Lincoln asked.

“I don’t know. I heard her stomach rumble before when we went through the kitchen.”

“Fuck,” Lincoln said and then ran his fingers through his hair.

“Don’t worry about it. We figure this out. We always do,” he said and then looked toward the doorway. J.J. was definitely complicated, but there was something about her that piqued his interest. It was in her jade-colored eyes. Despite the fear that he saw there, he noticed something else. Determination, strength, and fire. The woman was fighting, and if he were right, she was fighting for her life.

Chapter 3

The week had passed and it was the same routine. Conway watched her on video surveillance every night, sneaking downstairs to try and eat. She went from eating two forkfuls of food to four. Then she would cover her eyes and lay her head on the table. But it was tonight, right now as he watched her adjust her sweatshirt that he saw the gun she was carrying. He knew she had one under her pillow and a few others around the room. It was their job to know. Conway allowed it, but now, here she was walking around the house armed, and on edge. She could kill one of them. It was time to set some rules.

Conway exited the surveillance room and headed down the hallway. He made his presence known. After all, he didn’t want to get his head shot off.

When he walked into the kitchen, J.J. was standing there.

“I didn’t mean to wake you up. I was just grabbing a drink of water,” she said as she showed him the bottle.

“Why don’t you try eating something? You can’t live on water,” he replied as he held his position in the doorway. He took up the entire space. He was six feet four inches tall and a master at martial arts. So were the others, but he and Lincoln conducted classes at the police academy.

“I’m good,” she said.

“No, you’re not. Eating two or three forkfuls of food a night won’t give you the nutrients you need.”

She stared at him and then she figured it out and looked angry.

“Spying on me with your little cameras?”

“It’s my job. Just like it is to remind you that we’re here to protect you.”

“How is that a reminder? Seems more like spying and trying to figure out my weakness.”

God, this woman is paranoid. Who made her like this?

“I’m not the kind of guy to mince words, so let’s get down to the bottom of this. Hand over the gun, and you can head back to bed.”

She stared at him and now stood straighter. He lifted his hand out for her to give him the revolver.

“Since we’re getting down to the point, fuck you. It’s my gun and it’s my right.”

Why her denial to his order and the tone of her voice awoke something deep within him, Conway didn’t know. But the woman’s choice of words, the way she stood feminine and confident in his fucking kitchen, excited him. But he needed to calm her down before the others showed up too. He knew they were probably listening in. None of them had good sleeping habits. They awoke so easily to the smallest sounds.

“Listen, I’m not going to argue about this with you. It’s not safe, and it’s not necessary to walk around with a gun.”


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