War(30)

“It’s as simple as that?” I said. I wondered if it could be, doubted it could be.

Priest didn’t.

“It’s as simple as that,” he replied.





Sixteen





Priest



Milan was quiet for the rest of the trip. Probably necessary since she was absorbing something so new, so outside of the world as she had known just days ago.

The adjustment was a lot for me to process as well.

It had been so long since I had been in the company of someone like her, someone who wasn’t a part of my world, someone who didn’t understand it, it was difficult for me to put myself in her shoes. I had forgotten what it was like.

I hoped to return her back to hers intact, but no matter what, I would take some of her with me. I wouldn’t change, couldn’t, but I would appreciate the few moments with her, the time with someone who was so untouched by the life that I lived.

I watched her from the corner of my eye, unable to keep my gaze off her for any period of time. She impressed me with the way she was handling this. Those moments of rage, entirely justifiable, at the police station had passed, and right now, she looked almost content. Maybe it was my promise to avenge her friend’s murder. But whatever it was, this Milan, calm, almost serene, was breathtaking.

“It’s up here,” I said, speaking if only to break the direction of my thoughts, which were again veering into the dangerous territory it didn’t seem to be able to resist, the one that had me picturing Milan underneath me.

Milan perked and peered out the window at the small ranch house in an up-and-coming neighborhood. I had purchased this home and this location specifically to lay low. I didn’t come here often, but the neighborhood was such that the infrequent visits did not raise any suspicion.

She glanced at me, surprised.

I felt myself smiling, the expression uncommon enough that I noticed it. “Not what you were expecting?”

She smiled, the expression as breathtaking as the woman. “I hadn’t gotten that far. Thought this was another one of those late-night drives you seem to be so fond of.”

Then she giggled, the sound pleasant but giving away some of her strain. I was glad we had arrived. She was probably exhausted, needed rest, and now that I had her with me and knew she was safe, I’d be able to think more clearly.

I pulled into the garage and Milan stayed behind me as I quickly searched the house. Everything was in place.

“So this is supposed to be your house?” she asked when we returned to the living room.

“Yeah. It’s supposed to be,” I said.

“But you don’t live here,” she replied, frowning.

“Why do you think that?” I asked.

“It’s not right. Too…” She trailed off and looked around again, gaze settling on the empty glass on the coffee table and the tablet next to it.

“It’s too what? Maybe I was here and left quickly,” I said, leading her to the obvious conclusion, curious as to how she would respond.

She looked at me, her lips turning up and her eyes brightening. “I get it. It’s supposed to look like that. But it’s staged.”

I nodded, impressed with her instincts. “What made you see that?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I can’t quite put my finger on it. It just reminds me of those shows on TV where they bring in the fake furniture to show people what a house could be like. It’s supposed to look like the house, but it’s more of a showroom.”

I nodded my approval and then went to the refrigerator and retrieved a bottle of water and then handed it to her. “There are people who are trained to look for things like that and they wouldn’t have seen it,” I said.

“What can I say?” she said, shrugging, “The last thirty-six hours have been a crash course in crime. I’ve always been a very good student,” he said.

“I’m sure you are,” I said, not intending the depth that went into my voice, nor the heated look I gave her.

“You should rest,” I said quickly, trying to cover my still-wayward thoughts.

“Okay,” she said, standing. “Just go anywhere?”

“Make yourself as at home as you can be.”

She moved down the hall, and I followed her, stopped when she turned into the first bedroom.

“And no one—” she started, but I cut her off.

“No one knows we’re here. You’re safe,” I said, my voice giving away my emotion. She watched me for another moment and then nodded.

“Okay.”









Milan



This place was inauthentic, fake, the furniture and decorations bland, nondescript, and definitely not a place Priest would call home.