42. Sterling
42
STERLING
“Oh, you both look better,” Sinclair comments the moment I open the door. “Sullivan said you both seemed fighting fit when he left earlier. But I wanted to drop by and check anyway, and bring some things you might need.”
She holds a bag out toward me as she cradles Monty in her other arm.
“That’s thoughtful of you, Sweetheart,” I say, taking it from her.
She places Monty down onto the floor and he runs straight to Hallie, his tail wagging.
“Hi Boy,” Hallie coos, bending to fuss him.
“There are some bridal magazines in that bag, too. I thought we could have a look?” Sinclair’s eyes light up.
Hallie smiles at her. “Sure, that would be amazing. Come on through, we just ate, but did you want some breakfast?”
“No, thanks.” Sinclair waves a hand. “I won’t stay long. Just an hour.”
I catch Hallie’s gaze as my daughter heads off into the apartment, Monty trailing behind her.
“You can’t wait an hour to continue what we started?” She arches a brow.
“Of course I can. Doesn’t mean I want to, though.”
She giggles and I follow her into the kitchen. I head straight for the coffee machine, fixing one for Sinclair as the two women sit side-by-side at the counter and start talking about flowers. I can’t help the smile on my face as I listen to them. For a long time I prayed to hear excitement in my daughter’s voice again. And finally it’s back.
Put there by Hallie.
“I wonder how big your bump will be on the day?” Sinclair assesses Hallie’s flat stomach beneath her sweater.
“I don’t know. I guess it’ll show. It’s going to be a few months until we get married.”
“True,” Sinclair hums. “Thanks, Dad,” she says as I slide her coffee mug toward her.
The bell at the door goes again.
“Jesus Christ, we’re popular this morning,” I say, heading off to answer it, the women’s happy chatter echoing behind me.
At this rate, Hallie and I won’t get any time alone before her parents’ flight arrives. And I really wanted to see if I could make her scream my name louder than she did last night. That was quite something.
I stiffen at the sight of Sullivan, Mal, and Denver standing fully suited with matching sour faces on the other side of the door.
“What’s happened now?”
“Let’s talk inside,” Sullivan clips, striding past me.
“You look good,” Mal says, clasping me on the shoulder as he slides past.
“Boss,” Denver greets, following the men inside.
I walk after them, into the kitchen. They all choose different areas to stand in rather than taking any of the numerous seats at the counter, or on the giant couch.
“You look much better. You must have had a good sleep last night,” Mal says to Hallie.
“Thank you. I feel much better.” She blushes, her eyes darting to Sullivan who’s picked up Sinclair’s coffee and is drinking it.
“I need it more than you, Sis, believe me,” he grunts.
Sinclair studies the three of them, her lips pursed. “We were talking weddings before you all interrupted. What are you all doing here with faces like that?”
“We need to talk to your father about business,” Denver says.
Sinclair rolls her eyes. “Ugh. And it couldn’t wait? He’s supposed to be recovering.”
“He’s recovered just fine, haven’t you, Dad?” Sullivan says, taking another large mouthful of Sinclair’s coffee before placing the cup back down on the counter.
Hallie looks at me and bites back an embarrassed smile. I walk over and place a hand on the back of her neck, rubbing it with my thumb.
“What is it?” I ask.
“It’s about what we were talking about with Killian and Jenson,” Denver says.
“Go on,” I urge.
Mal’s eyes flick from Sinclair to Hallie in question, but Denver knows if I’m asking that I’m happy for him to say whatever it is in front of them. I don’t want any secrets in this family. They can destroy everything and everyone if you aren’t careful.
“He’s in New York,” Denver says. “Killian tracked him in on a flight yesterday. We looked back over the past two years. He hasn’t been back here until now.”
“I know some people who could make him disappear,” Mal says, his jaw hardening before he looks between Sinclair and Hallie like he doesn’t want to admit to that in front of them.
“We keep an eye on him,” Sullivan says. “Don’t go acting dumb before we know if he even wants anything.”
“Who?” Sinclair pipes up. “Stop being so cryptic. They made an arrest over the club fire, so who the hell are you talking about?”
I exhale slowly. “Neil.”
Sinclair’s eyes widen. “Why are you keeping tabs on the man Mom had an affair with?”
Hallie’s neck tenses beneath my thumb and she looks up at me. “Sterling?”
“He was there the day we lost them,” I say, taking my hand from Hallie to scrub it around my jaw. I grit my teeth. “He couldn’t have started the fire. But he was still damn well there. And until we know why, I want you all to be on extra alert.”
“No staying at friend’s houses overnight without telling anyone,” Sullivan says to Sinclair. “We need to be vigilant. He’s stayed away from New York all this time. We can’t assume his return is purely an innocent visit.”
“And until we know why he’s here, everyone needs to check in with me daily. I’ll install trackers in all your phones so I can see your location at all times,” Denver instructs.
Sinclair snorts. “Like hell you will.”
“Sinclair,” I warn. “We’re all going to be doing this. And for the time being, I’d prefer you call one of us if you need any rides at night. I don’t want you driving alone after dark.”
She tenses, her eyes sliding away from mine guiltily.
“Seriously? You damaged your car again?” Sullivan says, recognizing her sudden silence that comes each time she’s scraped tens of thousands of dollars’ worth of crystals off that damn car.
“No!” She shakes her head, her eyes glittering in defiance. “God, you always want to blame me.”
“Because it’s always you who hits something. What was it this time? Another parking meter?” Sullivan clips.
“Forget it.” Sinclair sniffs and pretends to leaf through one of the bridal magazines.
“Sinclair?” I coax.
She stops, her shoulders drooping with a sigh as she looks up at me. “It wasn’t my fault. I thought I’d parked in a safe spot.”
“What are you talking about?” Sullivan asks.
“It…” She rolls her eyes. “It’s not that much damage. The workshop said they’ll fix it.”
Sullivan scowls at her and she huffs in annoyance.
“It was vandalized, okay? Someone scraped it and wrote ‘Beaufort Bitch’ across the windscreen.”
“Oh my god, are you okay?” Hallie asks.
“I’m fine, thanks. It’s nothing,” she says.
“That’s not nothing,” Sullivan barks. “Jesus, why didn’t you tell us?”
“Because you always overreact, like you are now,” she snaps.
“No one’s ever done anything like that before, Sinclair,” Mal adds. “We’re just looking out for you.”
Sinclair folds her arms, her lips clamped together.
“It’s not the first time, is it?” I ask, unease bubbling inside my chest from her tense posture.
She shifts in the seat. “They’ve never damaged my car before. Usually they just leave a note under the wiper.”
“Fucking hell,” Sullivan snaps, pushing his hands into his pant pockets and turning away.
My throat dries up at the fear radiating from him. It might look like anger to everyone else, but I know my son. He’s been scared of something else happening to our family ever since he saw his mother and brother die in front of him.
“What kind of notes?” Mal asks.
Sinclair shrugs. “Just ones saying I should watch my back. Or that I’m not as special as everyone thinks I am. Stuff like that. I get nice ones too.” She brightens. “Someone left me a flower and told me I nailed the runway last week.”
“Jesus Christ,” I husk out.
Sullivan turns and meets my eyes. A darkness swirls in his, a flash of the pain I know he fights so hard to conceal so he looks like the strong one. The oldest of the three. A role he’s always taken seriously, even before we lost them both.
“It’s fine, Dad. It’s?—”
“It’s not fine.” I cut Sinclair off and turn my attention to Denver whose face is like thunder as he stares at her.
“Denver?”
His jaw clenches and he takes his eyes from Sinclair and meets mine.
“From now on, until we work out who’s been sending Sinclair these threats and find out what Neil is doing here, you’re with Sinclair.”
“Yes, Boss.” He nods.
“What?” Sinclair gasps. “What does with me mean?”
“It means he’s your personal bodyguard as of now.” I point my finger at the floor to make my point. “You don’t go anywhere without him.”
“No!” She stands from her seat and glares at me.
“Yes.”
Her mouth flaps and she looks around the room for support. Sullivan nods and Mal wisely keeps quiet. Hallie offers her a sympathetic smile.
“Dad,” she begs, “not him. Please. I’ll take Killian or Jenson… but not him.”
“Denver’s the best we have.”
She doesn’t bother to hide the disgust in her voice. “It’ll be like being babysat by a gorilla. He barely talks, just grunts. At least Killian’s interesting, and Jenson’s fun.”
“You’ve got Denver.”
“My life is over,” she mutters.
“Don’t be so dramatic.” Sullivan sighs, the earlier fear I saw in him lessening as he looks at Denver and gives him a curt nod.
Denver returns it. “I’ll take good care of her.”
Sinclair snorts and scoops Monty up from the floor, whispering in his ear, “I’m so sorry. I know this means you’re stuck with him too.”
“Monty too,” Denver says to Sinclair. “No one will touch a single one of the few hairs he does have while you’re both under my protection.”
She shifts slightly, lifting her chin and flicking her eyes to him as she strokes Monty. “You’ll protect him as much as you will me?”
“Yes,” Denver replies instantly.
She stares at him a few seconds before looking back at me. “Fine,” she huffs.
I meet Denver’s eyes, and he holds mine without faltering. He is the best we have, like I just said.
And right now, Sinclair needs him the most.
“I trust you with my life,” I tell him.
“Boss.”
I narrow my eyes at him, praying I’m making the right choice.
“And, Denver?”
He holds my eyes.
“Now, I’m trusting you with my daughter.”