“Thank you.”
He opened the door, and after they got in, he leaned down and buckled his daughter in. Emotions clogged his throat. He would do anything for this child, had even made a deal with the devil to save her, but that devil would never come near her. “Baby, I’ll be by to pick you up real soon.” He kissed her forehead, squeezing his eyes closed as she happily told him she loved him. Before Skylar could see he was upset, he closed the door.
As Kelsey pulled away, he whispered, “I love you too, baby.”
…
Where was he?
Ella glanced at the digital clock again. 2:47.
In the morning.
As promised, she’d taken Skylar back to her place, they’d put in a movie, and Ella had popped popcorn. When Lance still hadn’t shown up after the movie, and Skylar had started yawning, she’d tucked the little girl into the spare bedroom’s bed. Then she’d paced the house. Three hours had passed since Skylar had fallen asleep and her father was still nowhere to be found.
Jesus. What kind of mess was he in now?
She’d looked back in her rearview mirror as she pulled away and had seen Lance approach Ralph and his clique. The sudden fury Lance had displayed made sense to her then. She would have been furious, too, if the McNealys’ brawn had had the audacity to approach her when she had a child with her.
A sudden noise outside had her rushing to the door to peek out the peephole. Lance was stumbling up the stairs, and she yanked open the door. As he lifted his battered face, she gasped, slapping her hand over her mouth. Shaking off the shock, she hurried to his side and put her arm around his waist, helping him into the house.
“What in the hell did they do?”
Lance collapsed onto the couch, holding his side. “It wasn’t them.”
“Then who was it?”
“I had to fight tonight.”
She blinked at him. Now he was lying to her? “I work there, too, remember? I wasn’t told of any fight.”
He glanced at her from under swollen lids. “Wasn’t a planned fight.”
“Are you telling me a brawl broke out?”
“No. I’m telling you I fought…in the cage. Three times.”
As he shifted on the couch, he grimaced, and she immediately climbed up on her knees beside him. “Where does it hurt?”
“Everywhere.” He gave a pained laugh.
“How could they have fights and not have me there? Jesus. Multiple fights? Everyone has to look like this.”
“No, I fought three fights.”
As his meaning slowly sank in, she stilled. “Were they all like your last opponent?”
“Yeah.”
“What happened?”
“I won.”
“Why were you the only one who had to fight like that?”
A shrug was the reply she received.
Maybe he was telling her the truth about the three fights, but he was hiding the reason why he was the only one who’d been forced to take on three guys. Had he pissed off the McNealys in some way?
Lance shifted again, with another pained groan. She shoved her thoughts aside to focus on him. There was a cut on his eyebrow and the bridge of his nose, but his skin wasn’t caked with dried blood. She glanced down at his body. He’d changed into a pair of gray jogging pants and an oversize Kansas City Chief’s hoodie.
“Did you shower?” Disbelief saturated her words.
“The best I could. I couldn’t walk up in here looking like I did. I stopped at home first. I couldn’t chance Skylar seeing me.” He rubbed his forehead. “Goddamn it.”
The pain in his voice this time wasn’t from his injuries, it was a deeper pain, an emotional one stemming from worry over his daughter, and it tugged at her heart.
“Sit tight. I’m going to get my kit.”
“I’m fine. Just sore as hell.”
“Either way, I’m going to check you out.”
Ella quickly retrieved a medical bag she kept in the closet then sat on the coffee table in front of him. Using a penlight, she flicked the beam across his eyes and was relieved when the pupils responded the way they were supposed to.
“Do you have a headache, nausea, or dizziness?”
“No, Dr.…”
“Watts,” she said automatically then froze at her flub. Damn it. Her driver’s license said McGuire. She covered herself by switching to the gash on his brow. “It’s not very deep. Just needs some butterfly bandages.”
“Kelsey Watts. I like it.”
Inwardly, she cringed. She didn’t like lying, but she especially didn’t like lying to Lance. There was something about it that felt wrong, which was crazy. The man showed up at her place, battered and bruised, after three thugs had followed him with his daughter, and she felt guilty. “Your nose isn’t broken, but there’s some discoloring of the skin.”
“I told you I was fine.”