Chapter Seven
Sledge
The phone rang just after ten. I was halfway through a beer, sitting on the couch with my boots off, legs up on the coffee table while I stared at the TV without seeing a damn thing.
Eliana’s number flashed on the screen, producing a frown as I stared at the damn phone.
While she was nosy as fuck, I kind of liked her, and I hoped this call wasn’t another damn babysitter giving up on me and Zoya.
I sucked in a deep breath and answered. “Quittin’ already?
” The words came with a bitter smile because as much as her resignation wouldn’t surprise me—she lasted longer than most—there was something that burned in my chest at the thought of not seeing her again.
It was fucking stupid, getting all soft and gooey about a damn nanny, when she was leaving.
There was a silence on the line between us that unsettled me. “Sledge,” she stammered out. “I need to tell you something.”
Every muscle in my fucking body tightened. She didn’t sound like herself, there was none of that bossy nanny edge she carried around, just a soft, shaky voice from a scared woman. I didn’t like it. Not one fucking bit.
“Just fucking spit it out,” I said,”
I snapped because the tension and the unknown made me antsy. I didn’t mean to be such a snarling bastard but the sound of her so vulnerable did something to me.
There was a long silence and then she spoke, her voice shaky. “My apartment was broken into, which isn’t your concern, I know, but the place was vandalized.”
The words barely registered before my brain jumped ahead to her point. “Don’t try to blame this on my club,” I barked. I knew hiring a college kid would bite me in the ass. “You hear me, Eliana? If you’re lookin’ for a—”
“Just listen to me, damn it!” she shouted, her tone angrier than I’d ever heard and it sparked something in me.
I always had a thing for women who weren’t afraid to speak up.
She had fire in her voice even when she was shaken.
“Whoever did this—and I know it wasn’t your damn club—left behind a bunch of photos. Of Zoya.”
My heart stopped. Then it kicked back to life, pounding like a goddamn hammer in my chest, so loud I couldn’t hear shit. My grip tightened on the phone until the plastic creaked. “What?”
“Photos,” she repeated the word as if I didn’t fucking understand English. “All over the wall and the floor. From different places in Steel City, but also from other places. Sledge, I don’t… know.”
“Someone’s watching you?” I spat out.
“No,” she answered. “They’re watching Zoya. There were photos of her with her previous babysitters.”
My heart stopped beating. My hands bunched and flexed as if that could shake away this fury, white-hot as it spread through me. “Why would someone do that?” My tone was accusing and I did nothing to hide it. Did I believe her? I wasn’t sure.
There was a shuffling sound followed by a familiar voice.
“Sledge.” Sheriff Cross began, his tone serious. “This is pretty damn disturbing. There are at least a hundred photos of your little girl and if I’m not mistaken, some are from before she came to live with you.”
Shit. Cross had seen her and her case file, so he knew she’d been underweight and malnourished when she came to me. “What the fuck did you just say?” I was on my feet, shoving them into my boots before I could think about what I was doing.
“Whoever did this has been watching her for a long time. We’re treating this as a targeted threat.”
“I’m on my way,” I growled, grabbing my keys. I’d see if Diesel and Ellie would take Zoya for the night.
“No,” he commanded sharply. “Crime scene’s active. You need to stay with your little girl. We’re gonna be sending out someone in the morning to speak to her. See if she noticed anything. Looks like they’ve been watching her for years.”
“Let me talk to Eliana.”
There was a pause on the call, some muffled voices, and the next voice that spoke belonged to Cross. “She’s with one of my men right now. She says to tell you she’ll be on time tomorrow, Boss.” He chuckled under his breath before ending the call.
I stood there in the middle of my living room, the phone still pressed to my ear while I tried to process what the fuck I’d just heard.
If there were photos from before Zoya’s time in Steel City, that meant this wasn’t random. It was personal.
I called Slate and told him everything. “Can you check cameras and shit around Eliana’s place, see who was hanging around?”
“I’ll let you know when I find something,” he said and ended the call without saying another word.
I sat back down with another beer, knowing I wouldn’t be sleeping a goddamn wink tonight, and thought about my sweet baby girl.
She’d been so damn small when she came to live with me.
Quiet. Scared. Underweight. I’d done everything I knew to do, fed her, protected her, and gave her space.
And still, she barely ate. Barely talked.
***
The next morning I could hardly get the door open fast enough when Eliana finally arrived.
She looked tired. Her hair was mussed, her face was makeup-free, and the dark circles under her eyes seemed to weigh her down.
But the biggest clue that something wasn’t right was the gray sweatshirt and the black pants with matching sneakers.
Gray. Black. Lifeless. All of her color was gone.
Despite all of that, she was still gorgeous as fuck.
“Sorry I’m late,” she said, waving me off before I could say a word. “I forgot to factor in traffic from the motel. It won’t happen again.”
“Motel?” I asked with a dark frown. “Why the hell are you in a motel?”
She rolled her eyes as she brushed past me, heading for the kitchen like it was any other day.
“Because someone broke into my house last night, remember? It’s still a crime scene and even if it wasn’t, I’m not sure I could’ve slept there last night anyway.
” She searched the cabinets and then the fridge, pulling ingredients together for Zoya’s breakfast.
“Your parents are close, aren’t they?” My chest constricted and my breathing was too shallow.
“Their restaurant stays open until one and they don’t get home before two in the morning. It’s too noisy for me to get any sleep, that’s why I moved out in the first place. Plus I don’t want to worry my mom.” She turned to face me, eyes dull but steady. “So yeah, motel.”
That was unacceptable. “Stay here,” I demanded in a tone that made grown men lose their shit.
She laughed, actually laughed in my face. “You barely tolerate me now, and now you want me to move in?”
“I didn’t say move in,” I muttered. “I said stay. For now. Until this shit gets sorted out. It’s safer.”
She crossed her arms, mirroring my stance. “I don’t want to intrude.”
“I don’t want anything to happen to you,” I admitted, figuring it would help her make the smart decision.
Something like shock crossed her face. “You’re serious.”
“Yeah, damn right I am.”
Her brows knitted. “Why?”
That was a good damn question. Why did I want this to happen? “Why stay in the motel when there’s room here? And a kitchen. And my sparkling personality.”
“All valid points,” she shot back with a grin.
“I know. And even better than me, this place costs nothing.”
Her shoulders fell. She was caving. “I don’t want to get under your feet. You only tolerate me because I’m helping Zoya.”
“Look, I don’t mind you being around. I’ve gotten used to you.
” That was as close to the truth as I wanted to get.
Because over the past few weeks I realized I actually looked forward to seeing her in the mornings and our verbal sparring before she left at the end of the day.
“And if you agree, I’ll tell you about Zoya’s mother. ”
“Seriously?” she asked on a heavy sigh.
“Yep.”
Eliana finally nodded, her moves slow and deliberate. “Okay,” she said softly. “I’ll stay.”
Relief hit me like a gut punch. “Good,” I said, turning away before she could see how much that one word meant.
Behind me, the coffee maker gurgled. Eliana’s soft hum, that little tune she always seemed to have under her breath, started up again and for the first time I agreed with her.
This wasn’t going to end well. But all the in-between shit might be pretty fucking amazing.