Alex looked up and said, “Tia volunteered to babysit.”
“For the honor of computer lessons,” Tia finished, smiling coyly. Yeah, she knew what she was doing to the Kid. But he was nineteen and able to send her away if he wanted to. And they both knew his brother’s rules. No visits with any of Katie’s Ladies until Alex was twenty-one.
“Big Evan is driving around the city, listening for Molly,” the Kid said.
Weird things happened when I took naps, even unexpected naps.
The side door opened, rousing me, fully, and Big Evan came in. He looked worn and wan and dejected. Pretty much how I felt. “Anything?” I asked, realizing that I had been dozing with my mouth open. I checked my lips for drool and thankfully found none. I just hoped the Kid hadn’t taken a photo.
“No. I drove all over the city, but I couldn’t pick up anything. You?”
“Leo said a lot of nothing last night, but claims he doesn’t know where Mol is. And I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have her.”
Evan shook his head and slumped up the stairs, even his footsteps sounding dejected.
Angie turned in my lap and craned her face up at me. “Daddy’s worried about Mama.”
My heart flipped over. How did I answer this? “I know, honey.”
“Mama’s coming back. Right?”
I forced the horror and fear and worry down deep inside. I had made promises to my godchild before and been able to keep them, but this time . . . This time felt different. “I’m—” I stopped, the words strangling. “I’m searching for her,” I managed. “I’m trying to find her.”
“Good.” Angelina pulled Ka Navista from the crack in the couch and tucked the doll into the crook of her arm. The doll looked frazzled and tattered and much loved, the long black hair tangled. To the doll she said, “My aunt Jane can do anything.” My heart turned over and went flat, as if the life had been sucked out of me. I looked away and batted my eyes to keep the tears away.
“I’ll do my very, very, very best,” I whispered.
Beast butted my soul with her head. Will find Molly kit-mother. Will kill ones who took her. She flexed her claws into me; the pain shocked the fear and worry away.
Okay. Yeah. We’ll find Molly, I thought back, feeling inexplicably better.
“We’re gonna have company.” Angie crawled from my lap and sat in the corner of the couch, watching the doll with determined, hopeful eyes.
And then I heard the bike. It had the high-pitched whine of a Kawasaki. And it was heading our way. Despite my lingering worry and pain, heat bloomed from my middle, flamed up my torso, and folded itself over my shoulders while settling low in my abdomen. It was like being embraced by a big-cat, as Beast’s interest fluctuated and changed.
The bike was familiar. It slowed in the street. And puttered close to the house.
Angie looked at the opening to the foyer, the front door, and the stairs, where her father had gone, and whispered, “I let the wards down.”
“You let . . .” I stopped. Angie could manipulate her father’s wards? Did he know? I had a feeling that he didn’t.
The Kawasaki bike went silent. I stood and looked down at myself. Jeans. Navy T-shirt. Killer boots. I walked to the repaired door, hope joining the warmth that sat deep inside. A knock came. A familiar tat-a-tat-tat. I dropped my head against the jamb for a moment, fighting my smile, and when I was sure I had it under control, I opened the door.
CHAPTER 13
You Gonna Invite Me In?
He stood as tall as me in his black Frye boots. Black jeans, a short-sleeved black tee, his black leather riding jacket hanging on the Kow-bike. His hair was longer than I had ever seen it, finger-combed and looking even darker than its usual black, damp from the helmet. I could smell gun oil, spicy aftershave, cigar. And his cat.
“Let’s go for a late lunch,” Rick said, leaning in, supporting his weight on his arms, high, to either side of the door, stretching up to show his biceps and the damaged tattoos there. And pulling his T-shirt against pecs and abs. Oh my . . . “You can call Tom for an intro. Fair warning, though. He’ll tell you I’m trouble.”
My breath hitched to a stop. They were nearly the same words he’d used to ask me on our first date. “Yeah,” I drawled, no longer holding in my reaction to him, leaning closer. “’Bout that. I know you’re trouble, Ricky Bo.”
His teeth flashed in a smile, his crooked bottom teeth pushing on his lip. “But I’m worth it, babe. Besides, even if I didn’t make you crazy . . .” He leaned farther in, bringing his mouth near mine. “I have info you want.”