My fists clenched. I wondered what might’ve happened if Travis had followed him down here without me noticing.
The thought made my body swell with rage. Because I had no idea what I was doing. Standing motionless. Watching. When danger was right there on the edges. If Travis had a weapon in his bag, we needed to make a move.
I stepped forward and my boots crunched against damp stone. The sound carried through the confined space like a gunshot echo off the walls. Blair froze mid-motion and jerked around to look at me.
The box slipped an inch from his grasp before he caught it.
“Jesus,” he said, his voice raspy, “you scared me.”
I closed the distance between us before he could say anything else. Before he could ask the question I already saw in his expression.
I glared at him. “You shouldn’t be here alone.”
My voice came out harsher than I meant.
And I quickly realized how it all probably sounded to him.
“Wait,” he said, raising his hand in protest. “Two steps back, then we can talk.”
I stepped back and gave him space to breathe.
Blair straightened and stiffened his spine, bracing. “I don’t know what you mean, I volunteer here every week.”
I moved closer and he backed up until the stone wall was at his back.
“You don’t get it,” I said. “You’re being watched.”
“By whom?” Blair asked, his eyes on fire. “You want me to say your name?”
“Travis,” I said, my voice a low growl.
I hated Travis’s name. It tasted like rust in my mouth.
“He’s outside right now,” I said.
Blair’s throat bobbed as he tried and failed to swallow. His hands twitched at his sides, wanting to reach for me. Or shove me away.
“Why are you following me?” he asked.
He sounded incredulous.
I leaned in so close I could smell a trace of cologne on him. “Because he is.”
The words struck, a blow delivered without fists.
Blair’s eyes flickered wide before they narrowed. “That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the best one I’ve got while you’re shaking,” I said, as my eyes scanned him.
I saw suspicion war with something darker behind his eyes.
Above us, a door creaked, and boots scraped across the cathedral’s upper floor. Blair’s mouth dropped open and his head whipped toward the sound. The bulb above us swung harder, light lashing across both of our faces.
“Travis has a duffle bag,” I said as I gestured upstairs. “What I don’t know is what he hasinsidethe bag.”
The flash of fear across Blair’s face told me he understood the stakes. With Travis, the worst had to be assumed.
We needed to make a move.
