Chapter Twenty-Seven

Running surveillance in a suburban neighborhood was difficult enough. Doing it with a rambunctious German shepherd who was still ramped up on epinephrine was a different kind of challenge. It bordered impossible.

Angel hid out, waiting for a few hours after Colton got home to make sure Dr. Westcott kept his word about not calling the cops. It would have been easy enough for him to write down the plate number as she drove away. The doctor had seemed sincere, but this was Colton’s life, and she wouldn’t take any chances. Especially not with a stranger.

Even so, she hated being suspicious of everyone and everything. This was no way to live—on the run and on her own.

Except, now she wasn’t on her own. Colton was there to help. As much as she hated putting him in danger, she couldn’t fight the urge to come back and see him again.

Maybe it was guilt over the way she’d left him without a word the last time…but she didn’t think that was it. She needed him. And not just to give her shelter from a world that was hunting her.

It was time she was honest—if only with herself—about the real reason she’d come here.

She sighed, and petted the dog who had his head hanging out the open window.

“Do you want to go see Daddy?”

Once again, the reference tightened something in Angel’s chest. She had never given a thought to having children. Her life, paired with her past, made it impossible. But every once in a while, a tiny thought would tug at her, and for a brief moment she found she wished she could have it—a normal family.

People to love her.

She had her team. Task Force Phoenix was her family. They’d taken her in and given her a life. But they weren’t hers.

“God, I think I’m in big trouble,” she told Pudge.

She didn’t see anyone watching the house, and no suspicious vehicles had driven by repeatedly. When she felt confident it was safe, she pulled into the alley and parked next to the gate.

Pudge ran like a shot to the back door as soon as she let him through the gate. She was only halfway across the yard when the back door opened and man and dog greeted each other properly.

He was watching her steadily as she approached the back porch.

“I thought you left,” he said, his voice steady, his face expressionless.

She wanted to kiss him. Kiss away the pain she could see haunting his hazel eyes. The pain she had caused.

Instead, she stayed a few feet back.

“And stole your dog?” Her brows creased.

“We both know he’s more your dog than mine.”

How great it had been the day they’d gone to pick up the puppy. For that moment, he had been theirs. Not his or hers.

“I told you I wouldn’t leave.” She expected him to throw the truth back in her face. That she’d said that same thing before, and hadn’t kept her word.

“You took all your stuff.” Even now his voice wasn’t accusatory. Just stating a fact.

“We had an emergency. I wasn’t sure if I would be able to come back.” She still wasn’t sure.

“Come tell me about it while we eat. I’m starving.”

So was she.

Damn, it was good to be home.