is dark, functional, and surprisingly clean. There isn’t a speck of dust on the dash or an empty fast food bag to be seen. There’s nothing in here that even hints at his personality or what he’s been up to since we last saw each other.
I have more than a million questions about him, his life since the divorce, and his job.
But I can’t ask any of those. We were never friends in the past, and we sure as hell aren’t friends now. We drive in silence, and the questions just keep piling up.
Has he had any contact with Dani?
Does he keep track of her?
Does he care what she’s been doing the last couple of years?
Does he want to rescue her from her money troubles? He doesn’t seem to be hurting for cash these days.
I want to confess how scared I am, how my hands are literally shaking with the lack of information about what’s going on with my best friend. He said there are no threats to me that his friend found, but how can he be sure?
When I squeeze my eyes closed, all I can see are the distorted images of the EMTs rushing past my peephole with that man on the stretcher. I don’t even know if the man they took out of there was the same guy she was dating.
Feeling his eyes on me at the red light, I look up and glance in his direction, but Deacon is staring out the front windshield. It makes me wonder if I’m losing my damn mind, but then the stark brightness of his eyes makes everything else fade away.
Were his eyes always so blue and mesmerizing? Was his jaw, now covered in thick, dark stubble, always so strong and defined? Surely not. The man I remember was a jerk, an asshole to the ultimate extreme, making me cringe every time I saw him. From our interaction earlier, he’s still a huge jerk, but so long as this guy keeps his snide comments to himself and the snarky comebacks at bay, I can admit just how damn handsome he is.
The masculine jaw in question clenches when his eyes dart in my direction. He’s not impressed with catching me watching him, but he keeps his mouth closed as the light turns green.
I’m an absolute fool for even noticing how good-looking he is. My best friend is missing, could possibly be hurt, and here I am wondering what his stupid hands would feel like on my skin.
Heaven help me. I’ve lost my damn mind.
Chapter 7
Deacon
Anna’s condo is only six miles from the office, eleven minutes in traffic to make it there, yet it seems like a decade has passed before we pull up outside the overpriced building.
For a man whose job is to literally keep an eye on people, to track people down, I’m hit with the knowledge that I didn’t know where my ex-wife was living until Wren pulled the information online. When I said I wasn’t looking back eight years ago after getting divorced, I meant it. It wasn’t an immediate break, of course. I was too weak for that, but last I knew she was living back with her parents, planning her wedding to some mogul that her elitist parents approved of. Hell, she was wearing his damn ring that day in court if I recall correctly.
“She didn’t marry Charles Warren?”
Anna looks from her building back to me.
These are the first words I’ve spoken since we left the parking garage, and I feel like an idiot for even asking. I just want to shove this woman out of my truck and drive off. I have every intention of forgetting I even saw her today, and the sooner she leaves my vehicle, the quicker that can happen.
I don’t know why I even asked, morbid curiosity maybe?
“The man wasn’t very happy when he found out Dani was keeping a guy on the side.”
I’m surprised she even answered my question without questioning my level of concern, but more surprising is the look she gives me when I nod my head in understanding.
“She didn’t—did she cheat on you, too?”
“I’ll walk you up,” I say instead of answering.
Anna is Dani’s best friend. I find it impossible that she doesn’t know the details of our breakup.
“I’ll be fine,” she mutters in irritation, but before she can climb out of my truck, I’m already out and around to her side.
“My mother would kick my ass if I didn’t see you to your door.”
She grumbles, completely