The detective made a sort of grunting sound that almost sounded like he agreed with her. He would know how the justice system worked. It was like restraining orders. For the most part they were absolutely useless. “How’d you avoid him for two years?”
“After college—before coming back to Chicago—I backpacked for a couple years because I wanted to travel. So basically I just used the same principles from my traveling days and stayed off the grid the best I could. I deleted all my social media accounts, lost contact with everyone I knew, and I used cash everywhere. I got jobs that paid under the table and I didn’t stay in one place long.”
Constantly moving had worn her down emotionally, though. She’d been tired of looking over her shoulder all the time and having no real connections to people. “When I saw on the news that he’d been murdered, I settled in Miami.” For the first couple of months she’d still been off the grid for the most part. Kimmy had paid her under the table until a few months ago when Tegan had finally started to feel safe enough to truly put down roots. But she didn’t think the detective needed to know that Kimmy had been paying her in cash in the beginning of her employment.
She cleared her throat. “It’s sunny here all the time and the people I’ve met in Florida up to this point have been so nice. For the first time since I was a kid I feel like I belong somewhere…” Her voice broke and, to her horror, the tears she’d been keeping at bay started pouring out in an unexpected wave. Her throat tightened, making it impossible to talk as emotions strangled her.
She didn’t want to go on the run again, didn’t want to leave the friends and home she’d made. Before she could swipe the tears away, Aaron had pulled her into his arms. She didn’t bother pushing back, but buried her face against his chest and blocked out everything else as sobs racked her body.
She’d been strong for a long time, always trying to keep positive even when she’d been on the run and her only friend had been Kali. Now someone had tried to kill her today. She’d almost died. By all accounts she would have if not for dumb luck. Which meant someone was out there who wanted her dead. Someone who wouldn’t simply stop because they’d failed.
At that thought, another sob tore through her and she clutched Aaron’s shirt. She was sure she’d be embarrassed later for blubbering all over him but right now she didn’t care.
She wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, with him rubbing his big, callused hand down her back and murmuring soothing words she couldn’t really make out. She didn’t care what the words were anyway. They made her feel better, whatever they were.
Eventually she pulled back, sniffling and, yeah, embarrassed when she saw the tear and mascara stains on his white button-down shirt. “I’m sorry,” she muttered.
“Don’t be sorry,” he murmured as he handed her a box of tissues from the built-in nightstand next to the hospital bed. As she took them she realized the detective was gone.
“Where’d he go?” she asked, swiping at her cheeks and under her eyes, hoping she got the smudges she knew were there.
“He got a call.” Aaron was watching her carefully, his expression concerned.
Before she could respond, the detective walked back into the room, his expression even grimmer than it had been before. “Your security company called the department about a breach at your home. Someone broke into your place.”
Aaron watched as Tegan’s face paled.
“Is someone in my house?” The words came out raspy and trembling.
“Not now. Two officers did a sweep of your place. A picture frame is broken and it’s clear someone broke in through the sliding glass door, but they can’t tell if anything was taken. No visible electronics are missing so you’ll have to do an inspection yourself.”
Aaron wanted to pull her into his arms again, to comfort her, but held off for now. “What are you guys going to do about this situation?” he demanded. Because someone tried to kill her today and now her place had been broken into. Not a coincidence.
He planned to call his boss as soon as he could and see if Porter Caldwell could look more into Enzo De Fiore. Or more specifically, if Lizzy Caldwell, Porter’s wife, could. The woman was a genius when it came to hacking. She was the best security analyst—aka hacker—they had at Red Stone.