As if reading my mind, Travis continued. “It’s possible he didn’t intend to do you harm, Sam. He was a stupid fuck, and from what we’ve gathered, not well versed in the criminal underworld. At all. He was completely in over his head, trying to steal from a man like Ivanov. It’s possible that he wanted to get it out of his house. That he didn’t think someone would know he gave it to you.”
I bit my lip, nodding.
“It’s possible, but that doesn’t mean he’s not fucking guilty,” he clarified tersely before taking a deep pull on his beer.
I stared down at my own bottle, lost in thought.
“You want to tell me what happened?” he asked gruffly, taking me off guard. “With Sid,” he clarified, even though we both knew what he was talking about. He’d given me plenty of space and I knew he deserved an explanation, even a brief one.
I shrugged, looking off to the side. “Sid just doesn’t feel the same way about me, and he had a pretty shitty way of showing it.” I sighed.
He studied me intently, as though gauging his response carefully. “Well, little sis, obviously I don’t know the details but I see the man every day. All I can say is that he’s torn up. Someone who doesn’t feel something for you wouldn’t be so affected. I’ve literally had to fight to keep him from sleeping on the couch. I know for a fact he’s slept in his truck outside the house more than once.”
My mouth dropped open in shock before I recovered with a sigh. “He probably just feels guilty.”
“I know guilt,” he argued. “That’s not what’s haunting him.”
“There’s a lot that haunts Sid,” I said softly.
He nodded, his expression tight. “I’m sure that’s true. Have you thought about what you want to do about your living situation?” he asked, changing the subject, for which I was grateful.
I shook my head, biting my lip. “I don’t think I can go back home. At least, not right now. And I love you and all, Trav, but my days of being sequestered in a construction zone are numbered.”
His brows pinched. “Sam, I hate to break it to you, but even if you wanted to go back home I wouldn’t allow it. It’s not safe. Hell, had I seen that place before this happened, you would have been out of there. You’re either here or at headquarters, you choose.”
I groaned. “Travis, you know that’s not a choice. I’m not going to volunteer to stay at GI Joe headquarters. It’s the most sterile place on earth, and Sid is about the last person I want to be sharing a space with.” I rolled my eyes. “Isn’t there any other option?” I pleaded.
After a minute, he shocked me by nodding hesitantly. “Maybe.”
I clapped my hands together, excited by any option that included some form of freedom.
“A former client needs a house sitter for awhile. He has this little dog he’s obsessed with—God knows why,” he muttered. “Anyway, it’s up in Laurel Canyon, nice spot, but most importantly it has airtight security. He’s a celebrity chef, travels all over the world, but it’s been hard for him to find someone he trusts. He trusts me, so I know he’d appreciate your help. You’d just need to watch over the house and take care of the dog.”
I perked up—that did sound good. It’d give me a bit more time to figure things out. I wasn’t much of a dog person, but I could fake it for a little while.
“But,” he interjected, holding a finger up. “I want to reevaluate it to make sure it’s as ironclad as I remember.”
I nodded. “It’d be nice to get back to some semblance of real life.”
Even if it felt totally foreign.
“Real life with added security,” he reminded me. “Just until we sort this shit out.”
Right, that.
I reached over, clinking my beer bottle with his. “Thanks, Trav.”
“Anytime.”
CHAPTER 6
“Aren’t you the most precious thing with your pink hair!” My brother’s client, the chef and my temporary landlord of sorts, beamed when he opened the door the next evening. “I’m Brad,” he introduced himself, extending a hand to shake.
“Sam.” I forced a smile, despite my mood being tumultuous at best. He held the smallest dog I’d ever seen.
“This is Trixie,” he announced, pointing to the dog that resembled a rodent much more than a canine.
“Hi.” I waved awkwardly, not sure what the right greeting for a dog/rat was.
“Come in!” He beckoned and waved a hand toward the beautiful entry. The house was tucked back along the hillside, with a view of the city at its front, and the hills behind. The ceilings were high and vaulted with gorgeous gray wood floors and a sprawling staircase.