something I’ve never forgotten.”
“What?”
“Sometimes the strongest person is the one who walks away.”
It was difficult to believe that she was listening to the same hardass who was so determined to get rid of her.
But the compassion she heard in his voice as he reached out to a troubled boy was another face of a complex man. A man of deep feelings, hidden by a very tough shell.
A shell that had cracked open last night long enough to singe her to her toes.
A complex man, indeed. Jillian shook her head, fingers pressed to her lips, wishing she hadn’t heard this conversation. It only made it harder to resist him.
“You, uh, you think I should stay away from Rabbit, huh?”
“No. I don’t, not necessarily.”
“You don’t?”
“You have to make your own decisions, J.T. That’s part of becoming a man. But remember that who you surround yourself with is a measure of who you are and who you want to be. Make your choices count.” She heard him start to walk. “But for now, how about shooting some hoops with me in the gym?”
“Yeah!” No more world-weary tones from J.T.
And then they were gone, leaving Jillian to wonder who this man really was. Who you surround yourself with is a measure of who you are and who you want to be.
He was here, with the man who killed her sister.
She rose slowly from the chair and left the room, her forehead wrinkled, her mind racing.
* * *
Jillian arrived at the gym early the next morning, raw with fatigue from an uneasy night. The man who stood most squarely in the way of a goal she’d banked everything on had interfered with her sleep, as well.
Tossing and turning, she’d foolishly wished that she and Cullinane had met some other place, some other time. He fascinated her. She’d seen the smooth exterior, but it was the jumble underneath that captivated her.
Before yesterday, she’d never have dreamed that he would handle J.T. with such care. That he’d handle J.T. at all, for that matter, regardless of what Alice had said. The man who’d spoken of his grandfather with such longing in his voice was a man she wanted to know. The man who’d guided J.T. to walk away from a fight was at odds with the man who’d sicced two toughs on her as she lay sleeping.
Jillian struggled to relax as she stretched. She didn’t understand him—and couldn’t afford to try. So why couldn’t she just forget him and get on with the task at hand?
Because the task you set yourself is not going according to plan.
She’d never counted on this taking so long. She’d never planned to meet Alice and wonder what would happen to her and her four children if Hafner died. She’d never envisioned wondering if Fred’s days drove him crazy because he had to be so inactive.
But most of all, she’d never counted on Cullinane.
And that might be the most deadly omission of all.
Hafner was still Hafner, college funds or no. He was a merchant of death and needed to vanish from the earth. Cullinane protected that amoral killer, yet he kissed her with an intensity that set her every nerve on fire. He taunted and tested her at every turn, doing everything in his power to break her, yet he helped a confused young boy off the path to destruction with a firm, gentle hand.
Jillian balled up her t-shirt and threw it at her reflection in the mirror. It floated to the floor, ineffectual as she herself had been so far.
“What are you doing here, Jillian?” she asked her reflection.
“I’d be interested in the answer.”
She jolted.
Cullinane stood in the doorway. “What are you doing here, MacGregor?”
“It seems obvious, since I’m in the gym.” She scanned his sweat-soaked t-shirt. “You’re ahead of me this morning.”
“I decided to run first.” So I’d miss meeting you here.
He thought Jillian looked tired, not her usual spunky self. Cullinane wondered if her nights were as sleepless as his. He hoped so. He didn’t want to be the only one off-balance.
Swiftly
“What?”
“Sometimes the strongest person is the one who walks away.”
It was difficult to believe that she was listening to the same hardass who was so determined to get rid of her.
But the compassion she heard in his voice as he reached out to a troubled boy was another face of a complex man. A man of deep feelings, hidden by a very tough shell.
A shell that had cracked open last night long enough to singe her to her toes.
A complex man, indeed. Jillian shook her head, fingers pressed to her lips, wishing she hadn’t heard this conversation. It only made it harder to resist him.
“You, uh, you think I should stay away from Rabbit, huh?”
“No. I don’t, not necessarily.”
“You don’t?”
“You have to make your own decisions, J.T. That’s part of becoming a man. But remember that who you surround yourself with is a measure of who you are and who you want to be. Make your choices count.” She heard him start to walk. “But for now, how about shooting some hoops with me in the gym?”
“Yeah!” No more world-weary tones from J.T.
And then they were gone, leaving Jillian to wonder who this man really was. Who you surround yourself with is a measure of who you are and who you want to be.
He was here, with the man who killed her sister.
She rose slowly from the chair and left the room, her forehead wrinkled, her mind racing.
* * *
Jillian arrived at the gym early the next morning, raw with fatigue from an uneasy night. The man who stood most squarely in the way of a goal she’d banked everything on had interfered with her sleep, as well.
Tossing and turning, she’d foolishly wished that she and Cullinane had met some other place, some other time. He fascinated her. She’d seen the smooth exterior, but it was the jumble underneath that captivated her.
Before yesterday, she’d never have dreamed that he would handle J.T. with such care. That he’d handle J.T. at all, for that matter, regardless of what Alice had said. The man who’d spoken of his grandfather with such longing in his voice was a man she wanted to know. The man who’d guided J.T. to walk away from a fight was at odds with the man who’d sicced two toughs on her as she lay sleeping.
Jillian struggled to relax as she stretched. She didn’t understand him—and couldn’t afford to try. So why couldn’t she just forget him and get on with the task at hand?
Because the task you set yourself is not going according to plan.
She’d never counted on this taking so long. She’d never planned to meet Alice and wonder what would happen to her and her four children if Hafner died. She’d never envisioned wondering if Fred’s days drove him crazy because he had to be so inactive.
But most of all, she’d never counted on Cullinane.
And that might be the most deadly omission of all.
Hafner was still Hafner, college funds or no. He was a merchant of death and needed to vanish from the earth. Cullinane protected that amoral killer, yet he kissed her with an intensity that set her every nerve on fire. He taunted and tested her at every turn, doing everything in his power to break her, yet he helped a confused young boy off the path to destruction with a firm, gentle hand.
Jillian balled up her t-shirt and threw it at her reflection in the mirror. It floated to the floor, ineffectual as she herself had been so far.
“What are you doing here, Jillian?” she asked her reflection.
“I’d be interested in the answer.”
She jolted.
Cullinane stood in the doorway. “What are you doing here, MacGregor?”
“It seems obvious, since I’m in the gym.” She scanned his sweat-soaked t-shirt. “You’re ahead of me this morning.”
“I decided to run first.” So I’d miss meeting you here.
He thought Jillian looked tired, not her usual spunky self. Cullinane wondered if her nights were as sleepless as his. He hoped so. He didn’t want to be the only one off-balance.
Swiftly
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