“We’ll freeze out there.”
Shelby, who had ghosted in from the kitchen, spoke up. “What about that place I told you about? I already called them and they’ll take you in. They’ll take you both.” There was so much hope in Shelby’s eyes and voice, so much longing for a relationship with their mother, and Eva’s heart ripped in two when Katrina whirled and spat in Shelby’s direction.
“You ungrateful little bitch. You want to lock me up and throw away the key.”
“No!” Shelby protested. “Mom, I swear, that’s not what I want. But this place…they’ll help you get off the drugs and—”
Katrina launched across the space separating them and slammed her fist so hard into Shelby’s face, they both staggered backwards.
Eva froze, staring in stunned horror at the woman who had birthed her. For all of their mother’s faults, she’d always protected them, never once raised a finger to intentionally hurt either of them. But now here she was, screaming nonsense, tearing at Shelby’s hair, raking her nails across Shelby’s face, and trying to freaking bite her daughter. Doug howled with a maniac kind of laughter from the couch.
Holy fuck.
Eva grabbed her handcuffs from her belt under her jacket and flattened her mother out with a tackle. Sobbing, Shelby scrambled away from Katrina’s still clawing hands until her back pressed against the wall.
Katrina had more strength in her five-foot, ninety-eight pound body than Eva anticipated and broke free, only to meet with the business end of Shelby’s Doc Martens. The kick stunned her long enough for Eva to yank her hands behind her back and slap the cuffs around her wrists.
“Call the police,” she ordered Shelby.
At those words, Doug stopped laughing. His eyes widened, and he dove for the front door. A second later, his truck sputtered to life.
Too bad for him, Eva had his plate number.
…
After dropping Eva off at her car, Cam went home, but found he couldn’t settle and decided to make a quick trip to the office to grab some papers on the browbeaten cheater case. He’d gathered enough evidence that his client should have no trouble making a solid case for divorce, but he wanted to put it all together in a presentable report before he met with her again tomorrow. So he threw on his coat and trekked back out into the cold.
Reece’s Escalade sat in the Wilde Security lot—he must have retired his sports cars until spring—and the lights blazed from behind the front door as Cam used his key to get in. Damn. He’d hoped none of his brothers would be here this time of night. And he hadn’t been as careful about checking his surroundings since he and Eva left for Maguire’s, too distracted by sex and her call from Preston to worry about the hitman lurking somewhere in the city, waiting for a shot at him. But that worry came roaring back now. He set a hand on his gun under his coat and scanned the parking lot. Nothing moved, no cars drove by on the street.
Jesus. If the hitman didn’t get to him, this creeping sense of paranoia would.
Exhaling with relief, he pushed through the door. Reece stood by the coffee pot, waiting for it to finish brewing, his tie loosened and his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, which was about as relaxed as the second oldest Wilde brother ever got. The only sounds in the office were the bubbling of the coffee as it percolated and the police scanner, a low static hum in the background. Cam hated having the thing on, because the cop in him couldn’t tune it out like his brothers could.
“Hey, bro,” Cam said and locked the door again before he crossed to his desk. “Didn’t know you’d be back tonight.”
Reece glanced over his shoulder as he poured himself a mug from the fresh pot, his eyes red-rimmed. “You’re in a disgustingly good mood for midnight.”
Okay, yeah, there was a distinct bounce in his step, but hot car sex did that to a guy. “Eh, I’m a night owl. How was Philly?”
“A headache.”
“Then why aren’t you home?”
“Because I picked up three more home security jobs while there, and I have to put together option packages for each.”
Why that was so urgent it couldn’t wait until tomorrow, Cam had no idea, but he didn’t bother arguing. When it came to business or computers, Reece was a machine. Hell, the guy was a freaking Terminator and people in the city quaked at the thought of ending up on the wrong side of a boardroom table from him. Before Greer brought him in on the idea of starting Wilde Security, Reece had founded a corporation that created computer simulations for military use, and he held the kinds of security clearances that most people had no clue even existed. He had more money than he could spend in two lifetimes, and Cam often suspected it was his sole financial support that kept Wilde Security afloat.
So, yeah, not a guy to argue with when it came to work.
Cam gathered what he needed from his desk, then headed toward the door. “Don’t work too hard.”