Chapter 18
Ethan decided after he left Paisley’s house that maybe he needed some distance. She had the alarm system, he got alerts along with his guys, and Trey was on a flight heading to Dubai. She was safe for now, and that gave him breathing room.
But, holy Jesus, when she’d told him about Trey locking her in the closet and threatening her, he’d wanted to break down. His throat had been tight, his eyes stung, and rage twisted like angry snakes beneath his skin. It was a fine thread holding him together at that point.
He’d killed in the line of duty. He hadn’t enjoyed it, but he’d done it.
In that moment, he’d wanted to kill for sport.
He’d wanted to pin Trey to a wall with knives, carve pieces of him away, and make him endure every agonizing moment of it while he was forced to look at a picture of Paisley and Violet.
Strike that because they were too good for Trey. No, a bag over the head so he couldn’t see what was coming next. And a gag so he couldn’t scream.
But his ears—now those Ethan would leave alone so Trey could hear everything Ethan intended to say to him. So he could tell the man precisely what a fucking loser he was and how he should have never laid a hand on Paisley. Never should have stolen what was his.
Except, fuck it all to hell, that was a pretty sick fantasy to have. Not to mention the danger to his team and mission if he actually went through with it.
Which was why he needed distance. If he had to watch Paisley cry again, he’d lose his shit.
He drove home, parked, and went inside. Ghost’s car was gone and the house was quiet. He needed the quiet.
He thought about taking a six pack to his room and drinking them one after another, but that wasn’t who he was either.
His family had ended up on the streets because his old man loved the bottle more than he did his wife and kids.
His mother worked hard, scrimped and saved, and every time she’d get enough for them to stay somewhere safe, maybe have a home for longer than a week, his old man would take the money and drink it down.
One day, he’d stopped coming back. He moved to Jersey, found somebody else to shack up with, and left Ethan, his mom, and his brother without a home.
Maybe his mother wouldn’t have gotten addicted to heroin if she’d had a chance in life instead of getting kicked in the teeth every damned time, but the slow wearing down of her defenses had made her vulnerable.
Ethan’s dad leaving them with nothing only cemented it. Dani Snow started turning tricks to make ends meet, and her kids lived on the streets with the other people who didn’t have homes to go to. There was an entire community of them out there, living on the edge of society.
Homeless. Unhoused. People experiencing homelessness.
Whatever the correct term was these days, it didn’t change the fact there were people who didn’t have enough money to afford a roof over their heads even though many of them worked full time jobs.
Debating what to call it didn’t fix the problem, and it damned sure didn’t make those without homes feel any better. Hadn’t for him or his little brother.
By the time child services took them in and sent them to live with a cousin of a cousin, Eric was also experimenting with drugs. Except he’d found meth, and that was even worse.
Ethan swore as he raked a hand through his hair. This wasn’t the memory trip he’d planned to take tonight. He’d been thinking about Paisley and about killing Trey, and now he was brooding about his fucked up childhood and how he couldn’t save the people who’d mattered the most back then.
He wasn’t that helpless kid anymore, though. He’d make sure Paisley and Violet had a future, even if he wasn’t part of it.
Ethan went to his room, shucked everything but his boxers, and flopped onto his bed. He turned on the TV, but nothing appealed.
He could still see Paisley in her kitchen, looking at him with longing in her eyes after all she’d told him. Before Violet had interrupted, he’d have sworn Paisley was going to ask him to stay the night with her.
He wanted to, but he also wasn’t sure it was the right thing to do.
At least not yet. He wanted to stay, so fucking bad, but he didn’t want it because she was upset and wanted comfort, or because she was grateful for his help or even for fucking pizza.
He wanted her to have a clear mind about what she was choosing, because the next time he got naked with her, got so deep inside her he could feel her heartbeat, he wasn’t giving her up again.
Didn’t know how he’d explain that to Ghost, but maybe he didn’t need to. The man had already accepted that everyone else on the team was in a relationship, so why not one more?
Did he love her? Still? Or was it lust and anger and the urge to claim what had been taken from him?
He wasn’t sure yet, but he felt something strong. For her and Violet both.
That kid. She had every reason to be leery of him, yet she looked at him with those hazel eyes and he wanted to melt.
Her eyes were like his. He’d wondered at first if he was imagining it, because he wanted a connection that wasn’t there, but he’d realized tonight while reading to her that, no, her eyes really were the same color as his.
Her hair was blond like his mother’s, but that didn’t mean anything. He knew it didn’t, and yet…
He shook his head. Mother Nature was a cruel bitch sometimes. Showing him what he might have had with Paisley if Trey hadn’t lied. What he could still have. It wasn’t too late.
He was finally starting to doze off when his phone buzzed. He snatched it up, his heart pounding because the tone indicated an alert from Paisley’s surveillance system.
Everything inside him went cold as he peered at the screen.
A man with a ball cap pulled low stood in her backyard, staring at the house.