Falling into You (Falling Stars 3)
Not to worry.
To take care of their daughter.
He turned the key in the lock and opened the door.
I angled in so I could release her seat belt, violets filling my nose, overtaking my senses.
Sweet.
Sweet.
Sweet.
I slipped my arms under her and pulled her into my arms.
The weight of her perfect and precious in my hold.
She sighed, muttered my name in her sleep, and burrowed her nose into my shirt. I held her close. Pressed a kiss to her forehead, whispered at her skin, “I’ve got you.”
I climbed to the porch and angled through the door, and her father shut it behind us.
Carefully, I carried her upstairs, ascending to the second floor and through the door to her room.
Without looking back or giving an explanation, I nudged the door shut behind us with my foot and carried her to her bed that was still made. I pulled back the white, lush comforter and lay the girl on the white and gray striped sheets.
A vision of beauty.
The epitome of grace.
She whimpered, and her eyes barely blinked open as I pulled her shoes from her feet.
“Need you,” she rambled incoherently.
“You’ve got me, baby,” I promised her. “You’ve got me. I’m right here. Not going anywhere.”
On my knees, I leaned up enough so I could unbutton her jeans, and I pulled them down her slim legs, did my best not to give into the fantasies that wanted to come flying at me at the delectable sight.
Girl an angel.
A lyric.
A song.
I tucked her under the covers, kissed her forehead. Breathed her in and silently promised I would never let anything happen to her again. Then I pushed to standing and headed back downstairs, slipping out into the day that was breaking at the horizon, the darkness being eaten away by the rays of light that climbed over the hill to the east.
My eyes roved over the rolling fields.
To the flowers and down to where I could make out the roof of her workshop at the bottom of the path. My feet carried me that way, heart rate ratcheting with each step that I took, and my spirit clanged against the chains wrapped around my being when I came to where the door still stood partially open.
The local investigators had already done their thing, but I was bettin’ they’d come up empty-handed. Because this wouldn’t be close to being a hack job.
A professional sent to do someone’s dirty business.
I peeked inside, chest squeezing tight. I looked around, searching for a footprint or a sign or a motherfucking presence to still be lurking in the depths.
Silence echoed back.
Glancing out the door, I took in the surroundings, making sure I was in the clear before I pulled out my phone and dialed the number. It rang twice before Kade’s voice was on the line.
“Yo, brother. All good?”
Probably not if I was calling at five-thirty in the goddamn morning.
“Violet…my wife…she was attacked.” Menace oozed with the words.
“Fuck,” he muttered in his gruff voice. “Who?”
“Not sure, but I’m not gonna buy into the idea it was coincidence.”
I gulped, tried to see through the blaze of shame. “You need to ask them to reconsider. Think about going to the police.”
Kade hissed, words spitting from his mouth, “Not a fucking chance, man. You know what happened the last time someone opened their mouth. Won’t risk it.”
I roughed an agitated hand over my face, trying to keep cool. I looked at my feet. “Shit. I know. I fucking know. I just…I can’t bring this back to Dalton.”
It pressed through gritted teeth.
Emphasized.
Fact.
“It’s already in Dalton, Richard. Think you know it's always been.”
Dread spiraled through my body, and I scraped restless fingers through my hair, my nod reticent. Calculating. Desperate for a different solution.
“You have to see it through,” Kade added.
My gaze moved to Violet’s workbench, where her computer had been smashed, scrapes on the ground where the stool had been ripped out from under her.
A vile, vicious attack.
“And what if we’re running out of time?”
“Then you find a fucking way to stall them. Throw them off. Give them a different path to follow. You change lanes and pretend like you know where you’re headed.”
Knew exactly where I was headed.
To Violet.
To the child.
“I’ll do my best.”
He sighed like he heard exactly where my brain had gone. “Don’t fuck this up, Richard.”
“I won’t.”
I was going to fix this. All of it.
Ending the call, I clutched the phone in my hand, trying to rein it in, before I started out so I could get back to Violet.
I stumbled in my tracks when the figure stepped out in front of me, cutting off my path.
Saul.
His face twisted in a sneer. “I told you. I told you that you would wreck everything coming here. Everything was fine. Completely fine until you came. She was good.”
My attention darted back to the workshop, wondering just how much he’d overheard while a surge of possession slammed me so hard I felt like I ran face-first into a brick wall.