11

The personal tone to Slade’s voice sent a wave of warmth through Skylar. In the space of a heartbeat, he had changed from cut-and-dry to endearing. Yes, the man had his own agenda, but she believed he had pure intentions.

In the van she’d had no reason to believe he wanted her safe. Now, his offer to protect her made sense. As much as she’d like to think she could handle anything that came her way, she wasn’t equipped to deal with Aston. If she didn’t have to face this alone, she wouldn’t. But what about Hayworth’s missing money? Would Slade be willing to help sort out that puzzle?

Skylar nipped her lower lip as she debated. Maybe he could help, but involving him would mean explaining her past.

“Is there something you want to tell me?” Slade asked.

Her heart palpitated; those assessing eyes missed nothing. His years as a detective had obviously honed his skills, but it wouldn’t take much to read her thoughts—she didn’t have a poker face. At least that’s what her arresting officers had said. The detectives had read the guilt on her face and recorded her confession. They’d shown no mercy as they’d taken her into custody, bound her wrists in handcuffs.

Would Slade treat her differently if he knew? Would his compassion turn to stone? He might even decide she wasn’t worth protecting. She couldn’t take the chance. Better to deal with the account fraud first. But how could she convince Slade to give her the space and time she needed?

“A lot has happened. I’m just…trying to figure it all out.” She hedged, hoping her answer would assuage his curiosity.

Slade lifted a brow as if he wasn’t buying her explanation, but the waitress appeared with the food, breaking the intense moment. Once she left, Slade said a brief blessing and then dug into his omelet before polishing off the sides of hash browns and grits. He drained his coffee in a few large gulps, finishing his entire meal in less than ten minutes.

“You’re not eating.” He nodded toward Skylar’s untouched plate.

She hadn’t regained her appetite but tried a few bites. The blueberry pancakes tasted like sawdust, and the bacon lacked flavor. She managed a few mouthfuls, but couldn’t stomach any more.

The missing money had to be dealt with as soon as possible. “I’ll come with you. But I need to go home and take care of a few things first.”

Slade shook his head, resolute determination in his gaze. “It’s too dangerous.”

“I need a few hours sleep. I need to pack clothes and take care of my bills.” And she lived only a couple miles from Uncle Winston. He always woke early to have prayer time. She could jog to his house, talk to him, and then get back home before Slade even knew she’d gone. “That’s the best I can do on such short notice. I’ll call you when I’m ready to leave. And if anything happens to me, it’ll be on my shoulders. Not yours.” When he looked to argue again, she hardened her resolve. “It’s the only way I’ll agree.”

Slade leaned closer, lowered his voice. “You would have to use the back entrance. Keep your blinds closed and use a flashlight. No turning on house lights. Don’t let your neighbors see you. Don’t call anyone. And I’ll be parked across the street in case something happens. That’s the only way I’ll agree.”

Having Slade watching the condo would make it difficult to visit her uncle, but if she argued with him, he’d grow suspicious. Besides, she could slip out the back and use a side street. “Fair enough.”

“Good. And to make things crystal clear, as far as everyone you know is concerned the moment you left work tonight you became a missing person.”