Professor Barker gave a short, uncomfortable laugh, like I was making a joke. Then his eyes flickered around at the boys, then at the gun on the table, and his face paled.
"Look, I'm not here to make trouble," he quickly told us, holding his hands up. "I just wanted to explain. I'm writing a book, you see? It's fiction, but I've based the crimes all on real events here in Shadow Grove. The more I dug into old case files and newspaper articles, the more I discovered, and I just got a bit... uh... obsessed. I guess. I knew your mom back in the day, but we were never involved or anything. She was way out of my league, you know?" He gave another uneasy laugh, and sweat beaded on his brow.
I drew inspiration from Archer's interrogation techniques and said nothing in response. The silence thickened, and Professor Barker shifted in his chair. Fuck, I hoped that was the chair Jase had sat in naked.
"Why'd you come here, Professor Barker?" I asked after a painfully long silence.
"I'm asking myself the same damn question," he admitted with a wobbly smile. "I, uh, I guess I just wanted to ask if maybe I could interview you properly at some stage? I'd really love to pick your brain about how all this crime in Shadow Grove goes so unnoticed by city and state officials."
Wow. Professor Barker seriously had a death wish. It was almost laughable.
I exchanged a look with Kody, who just cocked a brow at me. The implication was clear. It was my choice whether Professor Barker walked away on his own two feet... or became pig food.
Decisions, decisions.
Taking a deep breath, I gave Archer's knee a quick squeeze in a silent warning to not argue with me.
"Get out of our house, Professor Barker," I said in a cold voice. "I suggest if you value your life, or your children's lives, you won't keep digging. Stick to fiction, or you'll be killed. Understood?"
The professor blinked at me a couple of times like he thought I might be joking. Then Archer reached out and placed his hand over the gun on the table.
"You heard her, prof," he snarled, "go now, before she changes her mind."
It was safe to say I don't think my criminology professor could have escaped our house faster if he'd tried. I was surprised not to see a trail of piss following him, as petrified as he looked. How in the hell he'd stayed alive this long was a mystery.
"Should have killed him," Steele murmured when the front door slammed. Kody had followed to ensure the professor actually left our property, but Archer, Steele, and I remained.
I sighed, dropping my head onto Archer's shoulder, and leaned into him when his arm wrapped around me. "I know," I mumbled, "but I get the feeling we're going to be doing a lot of killing in the next few weeks. Maybe sparing professor Barker will balance the karma a little."
Archer scoffed. "Doubtful. But he definitely struck me as more annoying than dangerous. We'll pay him a visit later when he's not expecting it. You know, really make sure he understands the importance of keeping his mouth shut."
I shivered at the violence in his voice. "Damn it, Sunshine, you're getting me all turned on with that kind of dirty talk."
Archer and Steele both laughed at that, but fuck... I wasn't joking.
"Come on," Steele said, pushing off the wall, "it smells like Anna has dinner almost ready."
My stomach rumbled at that comment, and I happily got out of my chair to follow him. Now that we'd gotten used to Anna cooking proper meals, it was a bit embarrassing how dependent on takeout we had been before. Not to mention how limited our diet had been.
Now, though? Anna was turning us all into actual foodies, and she was openly proud of that fact.
Steele had been right. Anna was just putting out the last of the plates of food when we entered the kitchen, and she happily talked us through what she'd made for us: spinach and ricotta cannelloni with a side of freshly made garlic bread. Yum. So much yum.
After we all ate, I packed up the plates, then went hunting in the freezer for ice cream. Just because Archer needed to eat well to make weight for his fight didn't mean the rest of us had to deprive ourselves.
Except we were all out.
"Who ate all the ice cream?" I demanded, turning around to scowl at the three boys. All of them gave me innocent "who me?" faces, but I narrowed my gaze on Archer. He thought he was so sneaky with his late-night fridge visits, but I was onto him.
"You. Go. Buy more ice cream." I pointed at him, then at the door. "Now."
He shook his head. "Can't, sorry Princess. For one thing, Kody is the ice cream thief. For another, I need to get back to the gym. Big fight coming up, you know?" He hurried out of the room before I could argue with him, so I switched my glare to Kody instead.
"Way to throw me under the bus, asshole," Kody grumbled, his cheeks pink. "But... I should really go and oversee his training."
I rolled my eyes. "You both suck."
Steele snickered a laugh. "I'll go, Hellcat. But only if you let me pick the movie when I get back, okay?"
"Deal," I told him quickly.
His eyes narrowed, thoughtfully. "And you watch it with no pants on."
I grinned. "Deal."
"Dammit," Kody grumbled, "well played, Max Steele. Well fucking played."
I laughed, then followed Steele as he headed for the garage. "Wait up, I'll come with you."
He paused, arching a brow at me in question, so I just shrugged and slipped my feet into a pair of ballet flats at the front door.
"Safety in numbers, Max," I told him quietly. "Even on a trip to the store for ice cream."
His lips tugged up in a smile, and when I came closer he wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me into a long kiss. "You're adorable, Hellcat," he murmured, then handed me a gun. "Take this. I've got a spare in the car." I gave him a wide-eyed look, and he shrugged back. "Better safe than sorry, gorgeous. And I have confidence in your gun-handling skills these days."
"Aw, you guys are going to give me heart failure with all these sweet comments," I teased as we continued into the garage and climbed into one of Archer's black Porsches. Steele had probably chosen it for the bulletproof glass, and for that I was thankful.
We drove to the closest store, and Steele carefully checked our surroundings before we exited the car and headed into the shop. Getting shot from a distance had made him hyper-vigilant, and I didn't blame him. We all felt that way so close to the wedding—and our trap.
"Just ice cream?" Steele asked as we headed to the frozen section of the little store.
I nodded, then hummed. "Do we have any Bailey's at home? That's definitely what I'm in the mood for: mocha ice cream covered in Bailey's Irish Cream." I moaned, already tasting it.
Steele chuckled and tucked an arm around my waist. His forearm rested over where I'd stored his gun, and it was a solid reminder that we always needed to be on our guard.
A point that was proven just moments later as I hunted through the freezer for an elusive tub of mocha swirl. It happened so quick I barely even had a chance to gasp. One second my head was buried in the freezer, the next Steele grabbed the gun from my waistband and pointed it at the hooded man who'd just approached.