My face warms. “What I’m trying to say is… bad parents have amazing kids all the time, just like good parents have kids that turn into fucking criminals. And hey… you’re the best thing Jasper ever did in his life, and fuck him if he doesn’t realize it. Fucking idiot.”
She lifts her head and cracks a watery smile, so I figure I’m finally saying the right things. Talking doesn’t come easily to me, not anymore, and pep talks even less, but I mean every word.
She lifts a hand to my face, strokes my beard. “Will you shave some day?” she whispers.
I arch a brow at her. “Don’t change the topic.”
She laughs silently. “The first time I saw you, I thought, I wonder what he looks like behind that bush.”
“Bullshit. You didn’t think that.”
“You’re right, I didn’t. I’m just curious. And you are hiding.”
I say nothing to that, because she’s probably right.
It’s my last wall, my last defense. What if I shave it off and I look like the man I was before Emma died? What would it mean?
How can I look the same when I’m so changed inside?
And doesn’t Octavia deserve the man I used to be, instead of the wreck left behind?
She’s here, though. Doesn’t look afraid of me. Even after the way I treated her before.
Maybe it’s time.
Chapter Forty
Octavia
I wish I could stay in Matt’s arms all day, my face pressed to his strong shoulder, my fingertips on his face, his voice in my ears. I wish I could strip him bare, run my hands all over his body, map its hollows and ridges, the path of his muscles and the shape of his bones.
Even worn out and worried, he’s so handsome. With every wall he tears down for me, he becomes more beautiful.
This man I love.
But Matt’s phone starts to buzz, and there’s noise outside the house door.
“Fucking John,” Matt growls, and I tug on his beard. “What?”
“He’s doing all he can to help.”
“Yeah.” He blinks at me, gives me a quick half-smile, and pulls out his phone from his back pocket. “Hansen. Yeah, Johnny boy, I’ll come out, the kids are asleep.”
“Stop calling him that.” I swat at his hand holding the phone, and he grins at me.
It makes me smile.
“Yeah, all right.” He disconnects. “We’ll do this on the porch. Keep our eye on the kids.”
Paranoid. As if the psycho stalker will enter the house with us a few feet away and snatch the kids.
But he’s done it once already today, so…
There’s a soft knock on the door, and we get up, Matt pulling me along with him. John is waiting outside, looking somber.
“Kids okay?” he asks, and I like him more for starting with this.
Matt nods, and I take his hand, because why not?
Is he my boyfriend now?
Is he mine, like I’m his?
“We’ve spread out, looking for our suspect, but we don’t have a description we can use,” John says. He shades his eyes against the sun. “He obviously wanted to scare you, make you believe he’d killed the kids, but planted clues to let you find them quickly. As to who he is… It’s like looking for a needle in a haystack.”
“What about Alina’s brother? Did you find out anything about him? What’s his name, for starters?”
“Jeff Adams.”
I start. That name… I’ve heard it before. “Adam?” I whisper. “Adam Cash.”
“No, not Adam.” John glances at the police car parked outside the gate, nods at the agents sitting inside. “Jeff Adams.”
Oh my God. “Ross said…” I try to swallow but my throat is suddenly dried up. “He said Adam gave a different name at the garage when he went to get his car fixed. Jeff Adams.”
Matt pulls me to his side, puts his arm around me, his brows drawing together. “What the fuck? Isn’t Adam your wannabe boyfriend?”
I can’t speak. I see myself walking beside Adam—Jeff?—to the ice cream shop, holding hands. Him asking me to kiss him.
God, I think I’m going to be sick.
“He said something about his sister,” I whisper, my voice faint even to myself. “That his sister lost someone, and he was visiting her, but—”
“Alina’s dead,” Matt snarls. “He was toying with you.”
John lifts his cell to his ear. “Anything else you know about this Jeff Adams?” he asks me. “Do you have his address by any chance?”
“I thought I did, but Merc said…” Again I have to swallow, my voice fading. “Merc said that was a lie. This Jeff told me he was staying at old Mr. Collins’s house, but apparently Mr. Collins still lives there, so…” I struggle to collect my thoughts. “It doesn’t really mean anything, he could—”
“If this is Jeff Adams, the brother of Mr. Hansen’s ex-girlfriend and the link to all this mess, I’d think it means something,” John says curtly. “You’re Octavia Watson, right? Mercury Watson is your brother?”
“Yeah. He’s in jail—”
“—for brawling in a public place with Ross Jones. The café. Made a mess of the place.” He turns slightly away to talk into the phone. “Bessy? Put me through to Mercury Watson. There’s something I need to ask him.”
“This isn’t like him,” I say in a small voice. “He just…”
“Mr. Watson.” John’s voice deepens. He looks really young, but suddenly he seems older, experienced. “I’m here with your sister and… Yes, she is fine. Yes, you can talk to her, but please answer one question for me.” He presses his thumbs between his brows, as if to suppress a headache. “Yes, you have the right to remain silent, Mr. Watson, but this is for your sister’s safety, so I hope you will comply.”
God, Merc. Despite everything, I want to laugh. That kid’s crazy.
“I need to ask if you know where Adam Cash lives.” John sighs, rolls his eyes. “Sure, I’ll pass you Octavia. Anything else? No, don’t answer that.”
He offers me his cell phone, and I take it carefully, my hand shaking. “Thanks. Um… Merc?”
“Hey, Sis.” He sounds upbeat. Maybe a bit too much.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine. Me and Ross, we’re hanging out until they release us.”
I frown. “Hanging out? After you went and beat the ever-loving shit out of him?”
Matt tugs me closer to his side, laughter rumbling in his chest.
“Listen,” Merc says. “I have Adam’s real address. It’s a motel right out of town.”
“What? I mean… oh my God.” Matt opens his mouth to ask me what is going on, but I shake my head. “Who told you?”
“I beat it out of Ross.”
“I thought you beat him up for being our brother.”
“No, I beat him up because he’s a dickless piece of shit, always raining crap on us. On you, Tati. So I went apeshit on him, and he started babbling about this guy, Adam or Jeff or whatever, telling me there’s something off about him, and by the way his name isn’t Adam, and he lives in a motel, and only pays cash. So…”
“So?” I close my eyes, absorbing the warmth of Matt’s body, his arm around me.
“So I think Ross is right. And now your cop friend is asking about him. What’s going on?”