Her eyes flew open. “W-what?”
“I didn’t kill the child. I didn’t kill anyone.”
Her chest rose and fell against his as she stared up at him. “I don’t understand.”
The sound of gravel crunching had him looking out the window to find another SUV slowing to a stop. “I know,” he said. “Come on. I’ll explain everything.” He grabbed her hand and led her out of the room. She only hesitated for a second before following him. Still that one second was soul-crushing.
“You didn’t kill anyone?”
“No.”
“But Esposito thinks you did.”
“That’s right.”
Chloe stopped and tugged his hand. He came to a stop as well before turning to face her. “You’re hurt,” she said as though actually seeing him for the first time since he arrived home.
“It’s nothing. Bruises, a few cuts. I’m fine.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, gripping her hair with her free hand. “I lost my mind when I heard him say—”
No way in hell did she owe him any apologies. He cupped her face between his palms and cut her off with a kiss. “Shh,” he said. “Not now. We need to get outside.”
With a nod, Chloe grabbed his hand this time and led him out to the porch. Rocket and the club may not have near the contacts Esposito did, but that didn’t mean they didn’t have their own connections. Ones they now owed some mega favors to.
“Hey, Rocket,” the tall dark-skinned man who exited the vehicle said.
“Johnson,” Rocket replied. “Any issues?”
“Nah, the little one slept nearly the whole time and the mother dozed on and off.” He rubbed his smooth head as his gaze drifted to Chloe.
Rocket slipped his arm around her shoulders. “Johnson this is Chloe. Clo this is a buddy of mine from my time with the Marines. Works for a competitor of Esposito these days.”
“Nice to meet you,” Chloe responded. “So what is this?”
“Special delivery,” Johnson said with a smile. He opened the back door of the SUV and helped a thin woman who couldn’t be older than early late twenties out of the car. With a baseball cap and dark baggy clothing, it was hard to tell exactly what she looked like, but she carried a sleeping child and had an air of sorrow around her.
Chloe gasped. “Is this—I mean—Were you…”
Rocket squeezed her hand. “Yes, this is Stacy and her daughter Rose.”
“Holy shit.” Chloe immediately stepped toward the terrified woman trying so hard to put on a brave face. “Your daughter is beautiful. How old is she?”
“Just turned three,” Stacy said in a small voice.
“We’re going to help you,” Chloe said with a soft smile as she stroked her hand over the sleeping child’s blonde head. “You have nothing to fear here.”
And that was his woman. Not afraid for her own safety or wondering what it would mean to have this woman in the house, but open and welcoming without question. And without even understanding why Rocket had a strange woman in his house at two in the morning. No wonder she’d wormed her way so deep under his skin.
“I’m gonna bug out,” Johnson said, handing Rocket a large duffle bag full of all the things Stacy and Rose now possessed in the world.
“Thanks man. I owe you one.” Rocket said clapping his buddy on the back.
“Nah. You worked so hard to keep Elena from spiraling out of control after Evan’s death. I’d say this almost makes us even.”
The mention of Elena was like a shot to the gut. Rocket grunted “Some job I did.”
“More than the rest of us.” Johnson held out a hand.
Rocket shook it, then his buddy slipped back into the car.
Chloe was gaping at him with a million questions in her eyes. “Let’s get these two inside and I’ll try to explain.”
She nodded. “Come on,” she said to a wide-eyed Stacy. “I’ve got a great room you can use. And a fantastic shower.”
It took about thirty minutes to get a snack for Rose and get the two settled in Rocket’s guest room. The child was scared, but so exhausted sleep won out after a short bout of tears and asking for her father. Chloe took care of getting them settled while Rocket showered the filth of the past two weeks off of him. Their guests would be at his house for no more than a few hours before it would be time for the next leg of their journey.
When he returned downstairs, he found Chloe sitting on the couch with a glass of whiskey, staring at the darkness outside.
After taking a sip, she held it up for him. Rocket downed it in one gulp as he sat down next to her.
“Tell me,” she said, turning to face him.
With a sigh, he let his weary head drop back on the couch and closed his eyes. He had no desire to tell the tale he’d have to repeat more than once over the next few days. What he wanted was to forget the whole damn mission ever happened. The next thing he knew, Chloe’s soft weight was pressed all along him as she straddled his lap.