exactly have any friends in your corner right now either. Well, except my brothers and me.”
If she allowed Brady in her life, would he explain why he had walked out of it to begin with and give her closure?
No, that wasn’t like Brady. Discussing emotions wasn’t on the agenda. As much as she had wanted to be part of his world, as intimate as her relationship had been with Brady, she had never reached the status of being family to him. She remained outside his inner circle, an inner circle he didn’t allow anyone inside except his parents and his brothers. Bitterness oozed from her chest and she worked to hide it. She had tried. She’d put her best into her relationship with Brady, and despite their chemistry and the effort she’d made, it had still failed.
If nothing else, his reappearance in her life had given her something to think about aside from the fire and Justin’s death. Though she hated to admit it, she felt safer with Brady around. He had a way of taking control of a situation and putting her at ease.
But how much could she rely on him? Was he sticking around this time, or would he bail if it got too complicated? History could repeat itself.
The cold had begun to cut through his jacket and her nightshirt. She shivered and rubbed her legs. Approaching sirens sounded in the distance.
“Come with me,” Brady said. “I have a blanket in my truck.”
He helped her to her feet and limped to his truck, one arm supporting her. Brady hadn’t answered her question about his injury. He was in pain, but he hid it well. Brady dug a blanket from the back of his truck, wrapped it around her legs and told her to wait in the cab. The truck sheltered her from the wind and biting cold, but not from the view of her home.
Her house was still in flames, her possessions destroyed. All she had left were the pajamas she was wearing and the necklace she’d gotten from Haley, one of the few people who’d stood beside her since Justin’s death. Susan watched helplessly as the fire trucks arrived and firefighters hooked up their hoses, pouring water onto the farmhouse. Despite their efforts, it was too late to do any good. The farmhouse was old, the wiring outdated, and the fire had been merciless.
No one had been hurt, and she was glad of that, but everything that mattered to her had been taken in an instant.
The ambulance arrived and the paramedic assessed them both, first treating Brady, who had an injury on his arm. An EMT procured a pair of sweatpants, a sweatshirt and a pair of shoes from a neighbor for Susan to wear over her nightshirt.
Hadn’t she suffered her share of heartbreak in the past week? What did she have left? Her eyes drifted to Brady. Once the most important man in her life, she couldn’t trust him. He’d hurt her once. He’d do it again.
Two police officers walked toward her and dread coiled in Susan’s stomach. She had no reason to fear these officers and yet, her experiences with the police in the last week had been less than stellar. Borderline catastrophic.
When they approached, Brady broke away from the paramedic and came closer, positioning himself at her side. “Thank you for the speedy response time,” Brady said to the officers.
Susan glanced at him. Nothing on his face gave away sarcasm. Why was he playing nice? Reilly was a detective, one of the best. Did Brady know these officers through his brother?
“We need some information from you,” one of the officers said, directing the statement at Susan.
When she’d been brought in for questioning after Justin’s murder, she’d known to ask for a lawyer. Did she need one now? “Do I need an attorney?” Asking the question made her feel guilty though she’d done nothing wrong.
The two officers exchanged looks.
“We’re not holding you under suspicion of starting the fire. If our investigation leads in that direction, we will need you available for questions,” the other officer said.
“If you’re uncomfortable saying anything now, we can go to the station later with your lawyer,” Brady said.
Brady was behaving as if they were friends. They weren’t friends. They were barely civil to each other, tonight being the exception. “I can talk now,” she said.
Susan was relieved that the officers needed only her basic information and promised to call when the fire investigator had finished examining the scene.
When the officers walked away, Brady knelt in front of her and looked her dead in the eyes. “What were you doing right before the fire?”
Did he think she had something to do with the fire? The idea infuriated her. “I was sleeping. And before that, I was watching TV.”
Behind Brady, a movement in the trees bordering her property caught her attention. She paused, squinted, trying to see who—or what—was there. Was it another nosy neighbor, her imagination on overdrive or someone with malicious intentions? She hadn’t called the police to report her unease and sense of being watched. They wouldn’t have believed her and she didn’t want to add fuel to their case against her by appearing insane. As far as the authorities were concerned, she was a criminal and every moment she had outside jail was a gift.
Another movement in the trees. “Brady.” His name left her mouth in a whisper.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, leaning close.
Their gazes locked and for a moment, Susan lost herself in his dark eyes. Brady had the same dark eyes as his brother Reilly, but at close range, she could see flecks of light brown the color of wheat in them. She let him draw her close, even when every other thought screamed warnings to stay away.
Though she felt silly for speaking the words, it felt important to tell someone. “I thought I saw someone in the trees.”
Brady didn’t question her. He didn’t tell her she was seeing things because she was tired. “I’ll look. Stay here.” He stalked in that direction to check it out, his limp drawing her attention. He disappeared into the dark and worry fogged her brain. If Brady was still recovering from his injury, could he protect himself? She had never before questioned his abilities. Before he’d been wounded, Brady had been a force to be reckoned with. She believed him strong and capable. If nothing else, sheer will drove him.
She waited for Brady to return. When he reappeared, his limp was less noticeable. Was it an injury that came and went? Was that a good sign for his recovery?
“Did you see anyone?” she asked. Please let Brady have seen something that would help.
He stilled. “No. I didn’t.” He spoke the words quietly.
She took a deep breath against the battering disappointment. If anyone had been there, Brady would have found him or her. Had she imagined the shadow? Lately, she’d felt on display every time she left the house. Neighbors and friends had turned on her, blaming her for Justin’s death, whispering behind her back. Those who knew her mother and her father whispered about history repeating itself. Their stares had made her paranoid. “I thought someone was there. I swear someone was watching me.”
“Maybe it was a neighbor, coming to see if you were okay.”
“Right,” she said, anger lacing the word. She’d lived in Denver all her life, and in this neighborhood for the past ten years. Everyone knew her by name, knew who she was. Some
