one bit, she held his gaze when she said them, feeling betrayed, but mostly angry that he would side with her father.
“Of course,” he finally said, “you’re absolutely right. I don’t know him like you do. All I have are impressions from our conversations.”
“Exactly.” She paused. “So, what else aren’t you telling me?”
It was obvious there was no way he could say anything more about the situation without her kicking him out. And if the bullet holes in his truck were any indication, that could result in some very bad things happening to her.
Like death. He couldn’t be responsible for that.
Her eyes never wavered as she waited for his answer. He’d never met anyone who could hold his gaze for very long before looking away. Sarah didn’t seem to have that problem. He cleared his throat. “I’m just trying to figure some things out. Like who was gunning for us out on the highway.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“What else aren’t you telling me?”
He fell silent, unwilling to tell her about his agreement with her father, yet even more unwilling to outright lie to her. “What do you think I’m not telling you?”
“Like why you’re sticking around?”
He blinked. “Why shouldn’t I?”
“Because the more I think about it, the more it doesn’t make sense.” Another pause. “Did Caden ask you to watch out for me?”
“No. Caden didn’t say a word.” At least that was one hundred percent true. Before she could ask another question he didn’t want to answer, he leaned forward. “Look, Sarah, I was just minding my own business working a contract job in Kabul with a well-trained team when the general contacted me about your kidnapping. I passed the job off as quickly as I could, and the team and I headed to the compound.” Also true. “We got you out of there and back to the States so you could heal. And then Caden asked me to stay for the funeral. You seemed to want me around, and Caden wanted whatever you wanted. After the funeral, you were still really sick and”—he shrugged—“I wanted to know you were going to be okay.”
She studied him as though trying to decide. “Don’t you have a job?”
“I’m friends with the boss. I can help delegate. Besides, Travis and Asher are sending me regular updates and reassuring me that I’m where I’m supposed to be, so it’s all good.”
She continued to study him, weighing his words. Finally, a sigh slipped from her. “Why didn’t they kill me? Or torture me? Or whatever?”
Her out-of-the-blue change of subject made him pause. “Who?” The fact that he had to ask unnerved him.
“The terrorists. If they knew I was the general’s daughter when they took me—and that’s the impression you’ve just given me—why bother to actually take me? Why not just shoot me in the school where I was teaching and be done with it? Why keep me alive?”
All very good questions. “I’m not exactly sure.” But he had a few ideas.
“Because if, as you say, they were trying to kill me when they cut loose with that hail of bullets on the highway, that means they followed me back here—or hired someone. Again, why? Assuming it’s the people who’ve been threatening the general, why not when they had me in their custody for hours on end?”
Because they wanted to torture her for information they thought her father might have revealed to her—or information they thought the man would be willing to trade in exchange for her life? He bit his tongue on the words. If she hadn’t come to that conclusion, he wouldn’t put it in her head. “Maybe they were supposed to and decided they’d rather make more money by trafficking you?”
She frowned and gave a slow nod. “Okay, that makes sense.”
But he could tell she wasn’t completely sold on the idea.
Bad pun not intended.
“It makes sense,” she said again, “but it doesn’t.”
“Why don’t you sleep on it?”
“And this whole thing with Brianne doesn’t make any sense either,” she said as though he hadn’t spoken. “Brianne Davis.”
“Caden’s friend at the FBI, Annie, is looking into her as well, isn’t she?”
“Supposed to be. I haven’t heard anything.” She flicked a glance into the kitchen. “Speaking of Caden, where is he?”
“Working, I would think.” He paused. “What was it like growing up with the general?”
She turned the television off and set the remote on the back of the sofa. “Painful.”
The soft word barely reached his ears. When he processed what she said, he winced. “How so?”