Free Invasion of Justice (Shadows of Justice) by Regan Black Page B

masculinity and odd sense of safety in the oversized shirt.
    Returning to the bedroom she found Gideon asleep–this time on the bed. She tiptoed past, but his bat-like hearing caught the movement.
    "There's room over here."
    "No, thank you."
    "I want you close."
    Before she could fathom why that caused her heart to flip, he continued.
    "I fixed the covers to avoid all contact."
    "Oh. How thoughtful," she lied. "I sleep better alone."
    "Yeah, me, too. But if whatever freaked you out strikes again, I'd rather not have to haul you all the way from the front door again."
    "Oh." More logic. Good.
    "Get over here," he ordered.
    "Yes, sir." Too tired to argue further, Petra crawled into the empty side of the bed. True to his word, he'd arranged the bedding so they were completely separate. She didn't feel all that grateful for the distance from his too-tempting torso.
    They weren't friends or colleagues. He didn't strike her as the type to offer comfort even if they had been. And why she was wasting time considering any of this nonsense was beyond her.
    Sleep well, Pet.
    Petra's head swiveled toward Gideon. It had been his voice, but the words were Nathan's. Falling asleep as quickly as earlier, Gideon snored on.
    "As if." No one could sleep through that racket.
    You're safe. Now sleep.
    Petra sighed and lay back on the bed. When her brother was determined, he found a way to make his point. Folding the bedspread over her, Petra closed her eyes and trusted the one person who'd never let her down.
    Some day soon she'd return the favor.
    As Gideon drove them away from the hotel the next morning, Petra couldn't control her urge to compare him with her brother. Both moved through a morning as if facing a firing squad. Both drove with an arrogant ease she wanted to envy. Both used their size and presence to guard what she was just beginning to understand was a wealth of secrets.
    "So are you ever going to tell me how you know this woman?" Petra asked as they left the polish of tourist-safe Chicago behind them. It seemed to her as if the sun itself dimmed. Ages of grime charred the streets and people hovered at the peripheral, reluctant to be seen. If they only knew how much she didn't want to be here either.
    She gasped.
    "What? What's wrong?" Gideon asked.
    "I'm a snob."
    "This is news how?"
    She shot him a look he ignored. "I'm just like my mother. All these years, all this work and I'm just like her."
    "Relax. You're light years apart."
    "How would you know?" she demanded, irritated with herself and his presumptuous nature.
    He laughed and she knew she'd never heard a more welcome sound. Rich, full, and the perfect counterbalance to the bleak streets around them.
    "I met your mom the other day. When...when you were...whatever you were."
    What could she say? Exhaustion induced unanchored flight was the explanation in her journal, but Gideon would only look at her like she was a freak if she said the words aloud.
    For reasons beyond her power to define, she wanted him to look at her as a woman. She gave herself a mental shake. This was an absurd line of thinking that she had neither time nor energy to follow.
    "I meant to thank you for helping me."
    "There's your proof."
    "Of what?"
    "A snob wouldn't bother thanking someone like me."
    She sensed the opening and twisted in her seat. "I've never met anyone like you and I've met a lot of people on both sides of the law."
    This time his laughter was low and edged with bitterness. She didn't have time to call him on it. Her head ached, her heart pounded, and Gideon began swearing as if the pain was his.
    "Stop the car," she ordered, hands clutching her head.
    "No."
    "Yes." Petra looked out her window at the pile of rubble. Her vision hazed with what the building had been. "I need to get out. Go inside."
    "Inside where? It's leveled."
    She thought she might crawl out the window if he didn't stop the car. "That's where I need to be."
    "I would've agreed with you, sugar. That was Michaels'