“It’s my kid and my wife,” I said bluntly. “Would you allow your wife and kid to fall into the hands of a serial killer? A man who we both know is beyond fucked up in the head? He’s been working with my parents. He fuckin’ knew who I was, or thinks he knows, so he went to them because he’s a spiteful little asshole and wanted his candy that I took away from him. This could be dangerous for them.”
My boss, a fucking chameleon if I’d ever seen one, was tall, muscular, and built like a runner. That was the only thing I could ever tell about him at any one given time. Sometimes he appeared old to me, while to others he appeared to be the same age. It was like he changed from day-to-day, and I had a feeling that it had a lot to do with what he did for the FBI as well as his other hobbies, not that I knew what those were. He was one of the smartest men I knew, and I’d follow him into hell if he asked me to…which was what he was asking me to do.
“The only way I see this working out is if you decide to stop pussyfooting around, nab this guy, and get him to testify against your parents. That’s the fastest way out of this. But, for that to happen, you need to let him hang around for a bit. Two birds, one stone. You let him hang, but watch his every move, and wait for him to mole himself deeper into the organization, let him think his threat worked, then bust his ass. He’ll plead a deal, and we’ll get the information on your parents…information that we desperately need.” He paused. “We’ve been working this case for six years now, and although we are closer to nailing them, we’re not close enough to shut the operation down any time soon. They’re too careful. Too high profile to kill…just think about that.”
And that was how I ended up being at a bar in the middle of Chinatown, thinking about what Lynn had said.
He was right, of course. Though I didn’t want to admit it, he was so right that it hurt.
I had to let this happen. I had to allow this man, this piece of shit that I knew was embedded in deep with my parents, get closer to Mina and my child. But in doing that, I’d hopefully be able to nail my parents down once I gave Josh the boot. Then maybe, just maybe, I’d get to have my life back. I’d get to have my wife and kid. I’d get to move back home and be happy again.
Maybe…
***
Mina
Fuck. Fuck. Fuckity. Fuck. Fuck.
That was about all my brain could process as I watched Josh stroll up the front walk of my yard as if he owned the place.
I quickly backpedaled from the door as if a serpent were readying to strike.
I looked behind me at Sienna, who was playing quietly on her iPad, and then looked back at the door.
“Sienna, honey,” I called out. “Go to your room and shut the door please. Someone’s here.”
She looked up at me, comprehension in her eyes, and then nodded dutifully.
That was my girl. Always following my orders no matter how much she didn’t want to.
Though, I had a feeling that had a lot more to do with the fact that she was so much like her dad—a dutiful soldier who was willing to do anything for the greater good. If she were like me, she’d question absolutely everything and rebel against any sort of authority that was imposed over her.
Sienna’s bedroom door closed just as I heard the first knock.
I didn’t answer it.
I couldn’t and wouldn’t answer it.
Or, at least, I wouldn’t have had he not given me any other option.
When it came to the safety of your child, you’d do absolutely everything in your power to protect them. Even date the crazy guy who was blackmailing you with everything you held dear.
Chapter 9
Don’t tell me you miss me. Tell me you’re outside with cupcakes.
-Actions speak louder than words Ghost
“I need to borrow your wife.”
Jessie James stared at me like I’d grown a second head.
“For what?”
Ellen started to snicker from her perch on the counter. She had her child, Lydia, in her arms, snuggled up to her chest.
My heart started to race as I saw the tiny outfit that she was wearing.
My own daughter had that exact same outfit on the day she’d come home from the hospital. I remembered that day so clearly that it was embedded in the forefront of my brain. Fuck.
***
Her entire body fit into my two hands.
She was small. So fuckin’ small.
“She’s so tiny,” I murmured softly. “She looks like a fuckin’ doll.”
I clenched my thighs together and laid her down in the middle of them. She fit perfectly, her tiny baby feet scrunched up close to her body.
One of them moved and jabbed me in the belly, and I idly wondered if that was what my wife felt when the baby moved inside of her.
My hands looked like mammoths when I reached one finger forward and slowly stroked it down my little girl’s cheek.
She turned her head, rooting for something I didn’t have, and I smiled.
“She’s hungry,” I said, looking up at my wife, who was staring at me with so much love in her eyes that I suddenly found it hard to breathe.
“She just ate,” my wife corrected. “That’s a reflex. It’s to help the baby know what to do when she’s born. She does it automatically when her cheek is stimulated.”
I grinned.
“Good to know, Nurse,” I told her playfully.
She beamed at me.
“I can’t believe the timing.” She shook her head. “I walked out of that test, and my water broke on the front lawn.”
She shook her head worriedly.
“None of your teachers had anything to say about it,” I told her. “And they gave me your grades, no hassle.”
She widened her eyes at me.
“Did you show them a picture of the baby?” she questioned.
I nodded. “I did. They thought she was beautiful.”
“Now all I have to do is pass the boards, and we’re golden,” she was so excited.
“I have my first police academy day next Monday. Do you think they’ll care if I bring my baby with me?” I teased. “Because I’m pretty sure this little thing isn’t leaving my sight.”
She snorted. “Yeah, I’m sure we can find you some tactical baby holder that you can slip on during your hand-to-hand training.”
Her hair was everywhere, some of it still plastered to her neck from where she’d sweated during the whole fun part of pushing our little girl out, but I’d never seen her look more beautiful than I did right then.
She rolled her eyes, and I wanted to kiss her.
“Do you like her outfit?” I asked. “It was the first outfit on top that looked like it matched.”
She stared down at it, then a grin teased up the corners of her lips.
“I love it,” she said. “I got it from one of the girls in nursing school and didn’t think that I’d ever get a chance to put it on her because it was a preemie.”
“Who knew babies came this small and were still healthy?” I questioned my wife.
“A lot more than you’d think,” she admitted. “Though, ours was a little smaller than most healthy babies. She was four pounds, fifteen ounces. They also expect her to lose some of that over the next week while we establish a nursing routine.”
I laid my hand over our baby’s chest, felt the rise and fall of her breaths and wondered if life had ever been any more perfect.
The hot pink flowers on the blue sleeper were adorable against my girl’s lightly tanned skin.