Lex’s gaze caught on the box of mail on her desk. Lifting her phone, she quickly dialed her sister.
“Lexi? Is everything okay? What’s up?” Tori asked, her voice higher than normal.
Lex rubbed her aching eyes. “I think everything’s fine, and I may have, ah, overreacted earlier, but I want you to stay where you are and keep Mom safe.” She breathed out air, not wanting to say the next words. “Dad got parole.”
No sound ticked over the line until Tori spoke. “Fuck.”
Yep. That summed it up.
“Where are you?” Lex asked.
“The Ham Motel on the outskirts. It’s cheap and out of the way.”
Lex sighed. “I’ll be there in about an hour, and I’ll bring food.” She clicked off and started going through her mom’s mail, tossing most of it as junk. Finally, she reached the envelope from the penitentiary and had no qualms about opening it up and reading the letter from her father to her mother.
Dearest Jennie,
I miss you so much, and every day, I wish for a chance to make up for my past. To keep you safe and cherish you, as we both know you deserve. I could, once again, be the man I was during the first six months of our marriage, before I began to take drugs. Drugs ruined my life, and I am so very sorry. My kids look at me like I’m a 500 pound gorilla, and I’d give anything to go back to that November we spent in that quaint cottage by the sea. Please send me a letter as soon as you can, as I miss hearing your voice in my head. My friend is waiting for you, and we’re still working together to eradicate the poison in this place. He’s a warrior, as am I now.
Keep our secret, dear one. We must keep our girls safe.
Also, if there’s a way, and I know it’s a lot to ask, but please perhaps testify at my parole hearing this time. Or at least ask the girls not to testify against me. I’ve been successful in my work here, and now I have enemies. It’s time to do my work on the outside, where we can be together.
My Love,
Parker
Lex frowned. What the hell was he talking about? What work? What friend? It was time to have a little chat with her mother, apparently. Lex stuffed the letter into her pocket and stomped toward the exit, only to run into Bundt and Masterson, both red faced and furious.
“What’s going on?” she asked, already knowing the answer.
“Fucking Dunnes,” Masterson spat. “Federal court order, saying they’re some sort of international operatives working with fucking Homeland Security. That the video is part of national security, and we have to turn it over.”
Lex blinked. “I heard the same thing from records. Damn it.”
“Bastards already sauntered out of here like they got away with murder.” Masterson punched the empty basket on her desk, and it flew across the room to hit the wall. “Like international cops are hanging with Pyro and Titans of Fire. Sorry about the basket.”
“No worries.” Nice punch, actually. Her breath heated up, and a panic, purely feminine in nature, began to well through her. Kell was free?
Masterson loped across the room and fetched the basket. “What did you do with all the mail?”
She shrugged. “Mostly junk. I should check the post office box more often.”
He dropped into his chair. “I can’t believe we had to let them go. A fucking SWAT raid, some decent evidence . . . and they walk out the door.” Masterson kicked his desk. “International case, my ass. I bet those fuckers are bringing those green guns over from Ireland and trading them for Apollo. Well, at least we still have those guns.”
Lex closed her eyes, once again the bearer of bad news. “Uh—” She gave him the scoop while backing toward the hallway. Finally, she finished just as he launched into a truly creative use of every expletive ever created. She couldn’t help the small chuckle when she shoved outside and into the raining night.
Mud puddles, cracked asphalt, and glass lined her way to the truck parked at the rear of the station, under a weak light pole. She halted, water splashing up her legs.
Kellach Dunne leaned back against his truck, his arms crossed, his stance wide. “Good evening, Detective.”
The merest of threads held Kell’s control in check, and a low growl rumbled up from his chest upon seeing his mate. He’d hoped the chilled, pouring rain would dampen the temper roaring through him, yet each sharp prick had escalated the emotions boiling in his blood. Now that she was in sight, if she ran, the beast inside him would have no choice but to chase.
His nostrils flared. Yeah, he wanted to chase and take her down.
Her head lifted.
Nope. No running away for his mate.
“Waiting for me?” she asked.
He smiled, the night narrowing in absolute focus to one woman. “Aye,” he whispered.
A shudder wracked her body from his low tone but it was not nearly enough to appease him. Not after the night he’d had, not after considering the danger she’d purposely put herself in, by refusing to trust him.