CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Kye
ISTARED DOWN AT THE POLAROID PHOTO IN THE CENTER OF THE table—the one now sealed in a bag with a label in big, black block letters that read, EVIDENCE. My throat wound itself into a rope so tight I could barely breathe.
My hand curved around Fallon’s, fingers threading through hers and holding on tight. I didn’t give a damn about rules or walls right now. I just needed to know she was safe.
“You should’ve told me immediately,” I said, pitching my voice low as a handful of officers—including Trace—milled around the living space and entryway.
Fallon’s dark blue gaze flicked toward me. “I couldn’t, and you know it.”
She hadn’t said a word about the most morbid photo I’d ever seen when she came back into the house after grabbing her charger—a picture someone had broken onto our property to leave behind.
Instead, she simply told us her schedule had changed for the day and called me only after I’d dropped the girls off to say she needed me back at the house.
By the time I arrived, Trace and his second-in-command, Gabriel, were already here.
My hand squeezed hers tighter. “You could have pulled me aside and told me what was happening. And you sure as hell shouldn’t have stayed in the house alone after someone left that shit on our front doorstep.”
A fresh wave of anger washed through me. No, not just anger. Fury. Not at Fallon. At myself. This was happening because of me.
“I locked the doors,” Fallon argued.
“Fal,” Trace said as he walked up, the warning clear in his voice. “I know you want to protect those girls from anything that could cause them distress, mental anguish, or harm. But you can’t put yourself at risk to do it.”
Fallon’s eyes flashed with a defiance that only made me love her more. Because I saw then just how much she cared about my sisters. She’d do anything for them. And that scared the hell out of me, too.
I squeezed her hand again, bringing her focus back to me. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t protect them. We just have to do it together, okay?”
A little of the tension thrumming through her system eased, and she leaned into my side as she had countless times before. As if I was her one safe place in the universe. “Okay.”
God, that trust was a gift I didn’t deserve. But that wouldn’t stop me from relishing it.
I glanced up at Trace. “Anything?”
“Sent the image to our medical examiner. She said it looks real, but you never know with special effects.”
My jaw worked back and forth. “Feels like it’d be a hell of a lot harder to create special effects with a Polaroid camera.”
“I agree,” Trace said, a muscle in his jaw fluttering. “Gabriel’s taking point on this. He has a few questions.”
I stiffened at that. I didn’t have a problem with Gabriel; he was good people—kind, hardworking, and a damn good friend to Trace. But I wanted my brother on the case. Because I trusted him, even when trust didn’t come easily.
I opened my mouth to argue, but Fal squeezed my hand hard. “It’s for the best. But it can’t appear like you’re hiding anything.”
A sinking sensation took root somewhere deep. We couldn’t have that because it could cause issues with my custody case.
Gabriel moved into our huddle in the living room. “I promise I’m giving this case my all.”
I moved my head in a nod that felt more than a little robotic. “Thanks.”
“You knew Rocco St. James?” Gabriel asked, flipping open his notepad.
I focused on Fallon. How her thumb traced circles on the back of my hand. All the pure goodness she was. “Yes. He’s a member of the Reapers MC. He was the one who organized their fights when I was a teenager. Not sure if he still does it—did it.”
Gabriel nodded, scribbling something on the paper. “When’s the last time you saw him?”
“It’s been years. Other than Oren, I haven’t seen any of them in years. Trace put the fear of God in them when he told them to keep their distance from me.”
Gabriel’s lips twitched. “It’s fun as hell when Trace gets scary.”
My brother shook his head. “I just let them know it would put a serious crimp in their business dealings if the department had a dedicated team stationed near their clubhouse, bike shop, and bar.”
Fallon’s mouth curved. “You’re a good brother.”
Trace grinned. “I am, aren’t I?”
Usually, I would’ve taken the opportunity to give him shit, but I didn’t have it in me. “What the hell is going on?”
All humor fled Trace’s face. “I don’t know. But it’s starting to look like someone is picking off the people involved in that fight ring, one by one.”
Fallon’s hand spasmed in mine. “Which means they want to hurt Kye.”
I moved then, wrapping an arm around her. “If someone really wanted to hurt me, they wouldn’t mess around with some threatening Polaroid. They’d just do it.”
Gabriel made a sound of disagreement, and my gaze snapped to him in warning. He held up his hands. “I’m sorry, Kye. I disagree. If we’ve learned anything from this past year’s mayhem, it’s that some perps like to play with their food before they eat it.”
Fallon’s hand fisted in my tee. “Kye.”
“I’ll be fine. What about Fallon and my sisters?” I asked. “Should I be talking to their schools?” My gaze flicked to Fal as a whole new worry set in. “Is this going to hurt my case?”
“We’re not letting that happen,” Trace growled.
“First, no one in the targets’ lives has been harmed.
So, I think the girls and Fallon are safe, but we’ll take precautions just in case.
Second, I’ll make sure no judge punishes you for being the target of a monster.
Worst case scenario? They have to go stay with Nora for a little while.
She got approved for respite care, right? ”
It didn’t matter that we had Nora as a backup plan. I knew the truth. Trace couldn’t do a damn thing if a judge thought the home I was creating for the girls wasn’t safe.
“Cowabunga!” Gracie yelled, running full tilt at Evan, who was dressed in full-body pads. She let loose two punches and then a kick.
“Amazing, Little G,” I praised. “But we might not want to give the attacker a heads-up that you’re coming in hot.”
Clem giggled. “You mean letting the whole neighborhood know?”
“I don’t know,” Fallon said, stretching out one of her thighs and then the other. “I think Gracie is pretty dang intimidating. I’d run in the other direction if I saw her coming.”
She held out her hand for a high five, and Gracie smacked her palm, a huge smile on her face.
But I was too caught up in Fal, dressed entirely in spandex.
It was the last thing I should be thinking about.
I had an adoption case to win once Renee’s rights were terminated, someone was picking off people involved in the fight ring, and I had a family to make sure I didn’t lose through it all.
Yet here I was, watching as Fallon bent over to touch her toes in another stretch. I took in the way the material hugged every curve, my fingers itching to glide over the globes of her ass as I—
“I think you’ve got a little drool there, buddy,” Mateo cut into my thoughts. “Not that it isn’t a beautiful sight.”
“If you like your eyes in your head, get them the hell off my wife,” I growled, those last two words feeling far more right than they probably should.
Fallon straightened and turned around, realizing just what our view had been. Her eyes narrowed on Mateo.
“Watch out,” Evan called. “She’ll take you down and not think twice.”
“Especially since you’re already on my s-list,” Fallon clipped.
Mateo held up both hands. “I’d never. Utmost respect for the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
Gracie glared at Mateo. “You can’t say that about Fallon. She’s my brother’s wife, and he’s way bigger than you.”
My lips twitched. “What she said.”
Mateo grinned. “You must be the amazing Miss Gracie.”
Gracie wasn’t moved by his charm. Instead, she crossed her arms and glared at Mateo harder. Evan moved to stand next to her and took up the same stance, looking ridiculous in all his padding. Then, Clem joined in, doing the same thing.
“Shit,” Mateo muttered.
“Language,” I warned.
His brows lifted. “You telling me I can’t swear in a fighters’ gym?”
“Not around my sisters, you can’t.”
Mateo shook his head. “Dude, you’ve changed.”
Evan just laughed and offered high fives to both Gracie and Clem. They smacked his palm in answer.
“Okay,” I said, refocusing on the girls. “Let’s work on an uppercut next.”
I took my time walking them through the angle and execution of the punch.
Gracie and Clem took turns practicing on Evan, who went out of his way to make epic sound effects as they connected with his pads.
He was damn good with the kids, and I knew having him take charge of an additional youth program was the right move.
Fallon crossed to me, pulling her ponytail tight. “What about me, fight master? Finally going to train me on a few things?”
My dick twitched as I watched how she moved through the space with effortless grace. Damn, nothing was sexier than Fallon. Even the way her ponytail swung back and forth had me gritting my teeth. Because all I could picture was wrapping it around my fist as I took her.
Fallon moved in even closer—so close I could smell the scents of jasmine and coconut. Challenge lit those beautiful blue eyes. “So?”
She executed the punch in slow motion, her fist connecting lightly with my rib cage. “Or do you still think I don’t have what it takes?”
Fallon might be giving me a hard time, but there was hurt beneath her words. And that killed me.
My fingers wrapped around her wrist, gripping it tightly. “Never thought you didn’t have what it took.”
Those blue eyes flashed again. “It sure as hell hasn’t seemed like that.”
I pulled her flush against me in a flash, not letting go of her wrist. “Did you ever consider that maybe I didn’t want to be this close to you?
” Fal’s breath hitched and then picked up speed.
“That I didn’t trust myself to touch you like this and stop there.
If I had let myself be this close, I knew I couldn’t stop.
I knew I’d want every damn part of you.”
Fallon’s mouth formed a perfect O, one I wanted to feel wrapped around my—
“Holy fucking hell! What was that?” Mateo screeched in a high-pitched voice that sounded like he was going through puberty.
I released Fallon, turning to see Mateo spitting his mouthguard onto the floor of the practice ring. He gagged and reached for his water.
“Oh, I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Fallon singsonged. “I heard drinking water after ingesting something spicy just makes it burn worse.”
Mateo’s gaze narrowed on Fallon even as sweat broke out on his brow.
“Sparrow?” I asked, trying not to laugh. “What did you do?”
She beamed at me. “If he’s going to take cheap shots at you, he runs the risk of having ghost pepper hot sauce put in his mouthguard. I warned him.”
Evan burst out laughing. “I told you. Don’t mess with Fal—or her dude.”
“Damn straight,” I echoed.
Gracie looked up at Fallon with wide eyes. “You put peppers in his mouthguard?”
Fallon shrugged. “He sucker punched your brother. He kinda earned it.”
Gracie’s face turned from amused to pissed the hell off. She marched over to the practice ring, ducked between the ropes, and started punching Mateo.
“Hey! Ow! Shit! She’s tiny, but she’s fierce,” he called, trying to block her hits.
“Take it like a professional,” Evan called.
“Don’t you hit my brother,” Gracie yelled.
Fallon leaned into me, and I wrapped an arm around her, kissing her temple. “Pretty sure she’s got your vengeful streak.”
Fal grinned up at me. “Don’t worry. Anyone comes for you? We’ll keep you safe.”
My gut clenched because as much as Fallon was joking in the moment, I knew she’d do anything to protect me—even put herself at risk.