Page 16 of Hunting Justice

Whoever had tried to kill Jonah had made a big mistake.

THREE

WEDNESDAY, 8:30 P.M.

The explosion and Ken’s final words played on repeat in Jonah’s head, along with his own brush with death. The why eluded him. But that might be his aches and pains talking.

He opened the passenger door of Noelle’s car and pulled to a standing position. He bit back a groan, feeling as stiff as one of the corpses at a crime scene. Willing his body to move, he shut the car door and ambled up the walkway to his house.

He’d bought the place after his wife died. Their home had plagued him with an all-consuming depression, and he couldn’t take the heartache of living with the memories. The new house had been his turning point. Since then, the grief had subsided and he’d moved on. He’d even dated a time or two. But the guilt, no matter how hard he tried, had never disappeared.

“You know, this is the first time I’ve been here.” Noelle walked alongside him a bit closer than normal, almost as if ready to catch him if he fell.

Wow, did he look that bad? “Well, there might be a reason for that.”

She arched a brow.

“You’ll see.” Thankful Matt had retrieved the keys from his damaged SUV, he slid the house key into the lock and glanced over his shoulder at Noelle. This was a bad idea. Sure, the woman already knew his quirks, but she’d never seen the inside of his home. He’d spent time at hers while taking care of her when she had the concussion, and later for relaxing evenings watching movies, but he’d never invited her to his place. They’d always spent time at hers.

He sighed and accepted the inevitable. “Don’t judge.”

Noelle glared at him. “You know very well that I wouldn’t do that.”

“So you think,” he muttered. He wasn’t proud of his messy tendencies, but for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out how to be normal. Whatever normal was.

She rested her hand on his shoulder. “Jonah, I’ve seen your office. Did you forget who gave you that poster?” She grinned. “Yes, I tease you, but I’ve never looked down on you about your habits. I wouldn’t do that to you. Besides, I have my own idiosyncrasies with neatness.”

He snorted. “That’s one way to put it.”

“See what I mean? Your lack of…shall we say neatness, is who you are.”

“Such a diplomatic way of putting it.” A smile curved his lips.

“That’s me. Politically correct all the time. As if.” She rolled her eyes. “Come on. Let’s get you inside and seated before you collapse.”

Jonah had delayed long enough. Why he was embarrassed in front of Noelle, he had no idea. They’d cultivated a close friendship over the past ten months. He trusted her more than anyone else in his life.

“Fine. Just remember, I warned you.” He unlocked the door and welcomed her into his home.

“Go on. I’ll lock the door behind me. Find me a first-aid kit so I can take care of your injuries.” She motioned him to enter.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I do. Now, quit arguing with me.” She gave him a gentle shove.

“I’ll grab the supplies and meet you in the kitchen.” He pointed to the kitchen on his left, then ambled to the laundry room on his right, where he kept his first-aid kit. His jeans had saved him from the debris, but they were toast. His shirt hadn’t fared much better. He retrieved a pair of shorts from his clean clothes pile and changed.

Samson, his cat, moseyed into the room. “Hey there, buddy. How ya doin’?” The cat meowed and wove between his legs. Jonah eased down and ran a hand over Samson’s silky fur. “Be on your best behavior. We have company.” He straightened and tossed his tattered jeans and shirt into the garbage. On his way out, he grabbed a new T-shirt and slipped it on.

He returned with Samson following. Noelle eased him onto a chair.

“Aren’t you a sweetheart?” Noelle greeted Samson with a scratch on the head, then turned her attention to Jonah and examined him from head to toe. It was weird having a woman check him out. Not that she had anything on her mind other than treating his wounds, but still.

“Like what you see?” As soon as the words left his mouth, he cringed. Yup, he tended to be awkward when his nerves got the best of him. He hadn’t had a woman look at him with such tenderness since his wife, and it had short-circuited his brain.

She smirked but held her tongue—for which he was grateful. Friends. That’s where their relationship started and ended. They both had secrets, and neither wanted anything more than a friendship—with anyone. So why had his heart rate kicked up a notch when he caught the direction of her gaze?

“If you’re referring to your cuts and bruises, then no, I don’t like what I see.” She clicked open the container of medical supplies.