Fit to be Tied (Marshals 2) - Page 36

“Unless,” he amended quickly. “You change your mind.”

“I’m sorry?”

“If,” he began, his voice low, “you change your mind and want the guy who has your back every single day there with you… you let me know.”

I felt like he was talking about something else, making a point I was missing. “I won’t change my mind, sir.”

“All right.”

“Thank you, sir,” I croaked, my voice faltering. “It means everything to me.”

He grunted.

“I really appreciate—”

“Go collect your partner, Jones, and get home to pack. You’re on a plane in the morning.”

I realized that just because he saw things my way didn’t mean we’d had a breakthrough and were going to be friends.

I turned and left him as fast as I could but miscalculated the corner at the end of the corridor and clipped my shoulder. It hurt more than I expected, and I had to wonder where my head was. I might have been just a bit overwrought.

THE PROTOCOLS for being on loan to another district were daunting, and even more so when going in undercover, so we had to sit with Kage and basically go through a binder of paperwork. I felt bad for Ian because it was a huge waste of time since he wasn’t going to end up going, but there was no way around it. Kage would talk to him alone; that was the way of it. Ian couldn’t argue with Kage over the phone, but he could in person. Kage would wait until we were home to call.

Once we were finally done, I made a call about Chickie. Aruna was, of course, giddy to have the werewolf stay with her, and when I drove him over to her at one in the morning, even tired as she was—full-time mom plus working from home—she was cognizant enough to explain to me yet again that if Ian wanted to gift her with his dog, he could come over and see Chickie whenever he wanted. I ignored her, told her to stay away from our Greystone for any reason, and promised to call from the road.

“Why can’t I go by your place?” she asked as I stood in her doorway. She’d hugged the daylights out of me, as usual. For a teeny little thing she was really strong.

“Because I’m telling you not to,” I ordered. “It’s not safe. My place will be under surveillance.”

“Surveillance?” She was instantly suspicious and her eyebrows furrowed dangerously.

“Don’t worry about it. Just stay clear.”

She nodded, biting her bottom lip. “You’ll be safe, right?”

“Of course.”

“You’re a godfather now,” she reminded me. “For crap’s sake, Miro, you need to stay in one piece.”

“Come on, don’t get all—”

“Miroslav Jones!” she yelled, whacking me on the arm for good measure.

Ugh, my full name. “Sorry, sorry.”

“I need you to be careful!” she insisted, adding a foot stomp.

“Yes, dear, I will,” I promised and then left before she could interrogate me any further.

When I finally got home again, at all of 2:00 a.m., Ian was packed, sitting on the end of the bed and texting someone.

“Who’re you talking to?”

“Kowalski and Kohn,” he said, chuckling. “They want to know how much luggage you end up leaving on our reassignment with.”

“You’re not supposed to tell anyone where we’re going,” I snapped.

He was scowling as he looked up at me.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” I groaned, realizing that I’d just lectured the black ops guy on keeping a secret. “Where’d you tell them we’re going?”

“I didn’t,” he said with a shrug. “Kage told them we’re going undercover, and that’s the end of it.”

I hadn’t thought of it like that, but really, that was all anyone needed to know. Whenever Ian was deployed, I never questioned him.

“What?”

I glanced over at him, unsure what he was talking about.

“You made a noise.”

“Oh, sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, tell me what you were thinking,” Ian demanded.

“Just that I guess it’s easy for guys like us to disappear for no reason, and no one would be the wiser. It would make it really easy to cheat.”

“That’s where your mind goes?”

“Small brain.”

“Clearly,” he agreed, his attention back on his phone.

“So what’s with Kohn and Kowalski?”

“They have a bet,” he snickered. “Kohn says four bags, Kowalski says six.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

He laughed at me. “A month away, M. I mean, I’m a little curious myself.”

Flipping him off, I walked into the bathroom.

“Wait,” he said, laughing, following me in. “Don’t get all—”

I rounded on him. “You should stay here.”

“Because I’m giving you shit about what you’re taking to Phoenix? Am I being grounded?”

“No, I—I don’t think it’s safe, and the longer I think about it, the more worried I get.”

His glare was dark. “What’re you talking about?”

“If Hartley comes for me, I don’t want you in the way.”

He nodded but said nothing, and after a few moments of the lingering silence, I understood that he was thinking.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Ian, come on.”

Tags: Mary Calmes Marshals Crime
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