“Antibiotics.” The man grinned. “Don’t worry—I’m a trained paramedic as well as a US marshal.” He held out his hand to Luc. “By the way, I’m Nick Grayson. Have a seat and let me see that arm.”
Luc shook his hand, then joined Grayson at the table. From the open doorway, he could see Priscilla and Mac conferring in the living room, standing close together. Mac, with his wavy brown hair and muscular form, appeared like a TV version of a US marshal. Luc didn’t spot a wedding ring on Mac’s hand. Maybe Priscilla was in love with her handler, which would make asking her for an annulment that much easier.
“Stay still while I remove the bandage.” Grayson nodded toward the other room. “Don’t worry. Mac’s married.”
Embarrassment crept over Luc like an old man shoving on a baseball cap. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you don’t.” Grayson swiped the area around the wound with an alcohol swab, then used a saline rinse to cleanse the wound itself. “Not that I blame you. She’s definitely striking, but you don’t have anything to worry about with Mac.”
Luc gritted his teeth but couldn’t stop a groan from escaping as the paramedic-marshal worked on his arm. To distract himself from the stinging pain, he contemplated Priscilla. Her formerly blond hair was now brown with purple and turquoise streaks. Today she wore it in two buns on either side of her head, which meant it was longer than the short haircut she sported the night they’d met. He jerked his thoughts away from wondering how long her hair was. He was here to end their nonexistent marriage, not rekindle a failed romance. A broken engagement right after college and a missing bride had undermined Luc’s confidence in sustaining a relationship. His busy work schedule made meeting women difficult, and over the years it became easier to not even try than to have his heart broken again. Both sets of grandparents and his own parents had fairy-tale marriages—the love between each couple had been nauseating to him and his siblings as children, but now it served to highlight his own inability to find someone with whom he could settle down.
Luc bit back a yelp as Grayson used tweezers to extract something from the wound.
“Sorry, got some of the bandanna in the wound.”
“That’s okay. I’m not usually so sensitive, but today has been anything but normal.”
Grayson affixed a fresh bandage on the wound, then wrapped it in gauze. “There, that will keep it covered. Now, time for your shot of antibiotics.”
Luc grunted as the man gave the shot.
After adhering a bandage to the injection site, Grayson stripped off his gloves. “You’ll be as good as new in no time.”
Luc stood. “Are we done here?”
Grayson nodded as he cleaned up the supplies.
“Thanks. I’m going to check on Priscilla.” Luc pushed open the kitchen door and hurried into the living room.
Priscilla and Mac stopped talking at his entrance. “How’s the arm?” Priscilla gestured toward the fresh bandage.
“Sore.” Luc looked from one to the other. “What happens next?”
Mac’s eyes hardened.
Luc braced himself for what the marshal would say.
The other man didn’t disappoint. “You tell us why you’ve been following Priscilla.”
Priscilla frowned as Luc’s face paled. His wound looked fine from the outside, but he had lost some blood. Being shot wasn’t something one recovered from quickly. Even she was still edgy not knowing for certain the danger had passed. Furthermore, she disagreed with Mac about pressing Luc for answers, but her handler had been firm.
Luc and Mac stood nearly toe to toe, sizing each other up like prizefighters about to start round one. Not good at all. There had been enough blood spilled today.
“Why don’t we sit down?” She promptly put action to her words by choosing one end of the sagging brown couch. Luc took the chair to her right while Mac sank onto the love seat perpendicular to the sofa.
Mac immediately addressed Luc. “Mr. Langsdale, why don’t we start with some background on who you are?”
“I work for CS Enterprises, a government contractor. My area of expertise is in cybersecurity. Currently, I’m assigned to the US Department of Homeland Security to develop a new protocol for accessing the internet over Wi-Fi that doesn’t compromise the security of the data being sent or received.”
Priscilla knew little about the ins and outs of cybersecurity, but Luc sounded like someone who could find things out. Like her location. Although why he would want to do so had yet to be answered.
Mac casually pushed his suit coat aside to reveal his holstered weapon, his gaze never leaving Luc’s face, which had regained its color. “You know your way around computers.”
Luc nodded. “Since I was a kid, I’ve been fascinated with them.” A sheepish grin crossed his face. “I hacked into my dad’s email when I was nine just to see if I could do it. It was so easy that I got a little carried away and hacked into my teacher’s email, then the principal’s. I sent some ‘joke’ emails that would only be funny to a fourth grader.” He rubbed his chin. “But I wasn’t as savvy as I thought because I signed the emails with my initials.”
Priscilla grinned as a smile surfaced on Mac’s face too.
Luc’s story broke the tension in the room like water cresting a dam. Her shoulders relaxed for the first time since the shooting. “What happened?”
“I was grounded for a month. Then my dad enrolled me in a code-writing class at the local community college to, as he put it, ‘better channel my interest in computers.’” Luc leaned back and crossed his ankle over his knee. “My dad had spoken with the teacher, who agreed to let me attend on a trial basis. I think the teacher thought I would drop out after the first class because it would be too hard for me. But I loved it, and the teacher soon realized I had a knack for writing—and finding flaws in—code.”
“In other words, you had hacking skills.” Mac let his smile drop.
Luc acknowledged Mac’s statement with a nod. “I’ve been working on helping companies discern flaws in their supposedly secure platforms since I was a teenager.” He tapped his crossed leg with his fingers.
“I see. And now you’re working for a Homeland Security contractor. What’s your security clearance?” Mac asked in a casual voice that Priscilla knew was anything but casual.
The implication of Luc’s ability hit home for Priscilla. If he was that good at hacking, then he probably put those skills to use to find her.
“Top secret.”
“Hmm.” Mac leaned forward, his gaze sharp. “That type of security clearance would give you access to sensitive government systems and documents.”
Luc uncrossed his leg and straightened, his frame tensing. “If you’re implying that I used my security clearance to read things I wasn’t supposed to, you’re wrong.”
“I’m not implying.” Mac narrowed his eyes. “Did you use your access to find Priscilla?”
“Not exactly.”
Mac’s eyebrows rose.
Luc held up a hand. “Wait a minute. I didn’t do anything illegal. My job was to double-check security measures certain government agencies used to safeguard data. And I also had to see that anyone seeking data on one or two individuals had the same level of security.”
Priscilla reflexively reached up to