She nodded. “My mother never did. I want it on record,” she said, sounding stronger.
He let out the breath he’d been holding, relieved she seemed to be coming back to herself.
“Have you been home yet?”
She shook her head. “Dylan was coming straight here, so I did too. I wanted to see you.”
He smiled at that, touching his forehead to hers. “I’m right here.”
“I came straight to you,” she said, her gaze on the picture frame. “I opened it up and came right to you.”
He gathered her hair and pulled it back, off her face. “You did good. And I’m going to take care of it,” he promised her.
She blinked at that, her posture stiffening.
Wrong direction, he thought. She didn’t want him fighting her battles or acting like she couldn’t take care of herself. He got that about her.
“I missed you,” he said, changing the subject.
“Me too. I brought you presents.”
His heart warmed at the gesture. “How about we take the day off?” he suggested, needing to be alone with her. He needed to slide deep inside her willing body and know she was safe. And his.
She frowned. “I have summaries to write.”
“Did Dylan say he needed or wanted them today or first thing tomorrow?”
She shook her head.
“Then relax. You earned the rest of the day. And I’m the boss. I can do whatever I want.”
She rolled her eyes and laughed. “You sure can. But we need to stop at the police station on the way home,” she said, her tone growing more serious.
“I’ll be right there with you,” he promised her.
She grasped his hand and squeezed tightly. “I don’t know what he wants from me after all this time.”
Ian couldn’t imagine. But he intended to find out. Until now, he’d been okay letting Alex handle looking into the son of a bitch, but now that her father had stepped up his game, Ian was getting involved. In deference to Riley’s feelings, he’d talk to Alex, but that didn’t mean he’d leave things solely in his half brother’s hands.
* * *
Ian had not only lived alone, but he’d planned to remain that way. He wanted Riley with him, but he’d expected some internal tension over having her clothes in his closet and drawers, her feminine bottles and things in his bathroom and personal space. To his surprise, they blended seamlessly.
Once she’d returned from New York and made herself at home, spreading out and not keeping to one small space, he found comfort in the things that assured him she was there and real. The problem, in his mind, was that she wasn’t there by choice. Her father’s implied threats may have forced her to move in with him, but if he had his way, she wouldn’t be leaving when the bastard was taken care of.
If left up to the cops, that might be awhile. Their stop at the nearest precinct was, as he’d feared, a waste of time. Short of documenting the phone calls and gift, there was no proof either of those things had been the other man’s doing. Though the cop who’d taken Riley’s statement had been sympathetic, especially after seeing the picture of her badly beaten mother, he didn’t think she had enough evidence to rise to the level needed for an order of protection.
Riley would need to prove she had reasonable cause to believe she was in immediate danger of becoming a victim of domestic violence, and given that she hadn’t seen her father in ten years, one phone call that wasn’t even a direct threat didn’t suffice. The officer couldn’t suggest anything more than to remind her to be in touch if she heard from her father or received anything more harassing than the calls she’d received so far.
Riley left defeated, and Ian hated seeing his normally spunky, bright girl feeling so beaten down. He swore to do more than the cops in order to make things right.
He started by arranging for a surprise for later that would put a smile on Riley’s face. It would also give him a chance to poke further into the situation and see if there was anything more he could find out about her old man.
* * *
Riley awoke from a long nap feeling refreshed and calmer than she’d been earlier today. She stared at the ceiling of Ian’s bedroom, the events of the morning coming back to her full force. She closed her eyes, refusing to think about her father at all. If she allowed him any space in her mind, be it fear or anger, she gave him power. And that was the one thing she refused to cede ever again.
Instead, she shifted focus to her location, looking around the beautiful and massively large bedroom, amazed at how much her life had changed in such a short time. From the new job, to the new man in her life, to moving in with Ian, albeit temporarily, nothing was the same as it had been just a few weeks ago. And it wasn’t just logistics, career, and Ian that had changed.