Chapter Twenty-Nine
ALICE
We were just finishing breakfast when Cooper's phone rang. He looked at the screen, his jaw going tight before he stabbed at the answer button and said, “Hey, man. You're on speaker. Alice is here.”
“Hate to bug you so early,” came Griffen's familiar voice, “but we just nabbed your dad trying to leave the building. I hit him with the Taser—clean shot in the leg. I’ve got him in the holding room. What do you want me to do with him?”
“Fuck,” Cooper swore, but it was halfhearted. I didn't have to ask to know he'd been expecting this. “Keep him there. I already messaged Agent Holley. I was going to call him as soon as we finish breakfast. Do me a favor?”
“Anything, Coop.”
“Call my brothers and tell them to meet me in the conference room in an hour and thirty.”
“On it. Anything else?”
“Yeah, how do you feel about doing a little shopping?” Cooper looked up at me, the lighthearted glint in his eye warming me from the inside.
“Shopping for what?” Griffen asked warily.
“My dad didn’t come alone.”
“Shit. Who did he bring?”
“My little sister.”
A long pause. “Holeeee shit. How old?”
“Three. And typical of Dad, she showed up with her pajamas, a stuffed rabbit, and not much else. I don't know what the fuck we’re going to do with Maxwell, but he's not taking off with my sister. Not with Tsepov on his trail.”
Cooper looked up at me in question. “Do you mind, Alice? Can you go with Griffen and get her sorted out?”
I answered, “Of course,” at the same time Griffen offered, “Let me call Lily, see if she can come with us. If anybody knows what a little kid needs, it's Lily. Better than the rest of us.”
“Great idea,” I said in relief. I was happy to hit the stores and set Petra up with whatever she needed, but beyond clothes, I had no clue.
Knox's girlfriend Lily was mom to five-year-old Adam, the boy I’d shot Tsepov’s man to protect. Lily was great—not a surprise since Knox was too cool to hook up with anyone who wasn’t. Lily would know exactly what we needed for Petra.
As Cooper nailed down the details and got off the phone with Griffen, the subject of our conversation came wandering into the kitchen clutching her bedraggled stuffed rabbit. Petra looked lost and confused, but not scared. Not yet.
Her eyes landed on Cooper and she picked up speed, her little feet covering the distance between the hallway and the kitchen faster than I would have guessed. She was small and slight, but she was quick.
Petra reached Cooper and closed her small hand around the fine wool of his suit pants. She tugged, lifting her other arm to reach for him, the bunny dangling from her tightly clenched fingers.
Neither of us had any experience with kids, but her request was unmistakable. Cooper leaned down and picked her up, settling her on his hip. Her eyes drooping, still half-asleep, she laid her head on his shoulder. In her light, clear voice she asked, “Daddy?”
Cooper rubbed a hand over her back in comfort. “Your daddy had to go to work. Alice and I are here. Do you want to go out with Alice? Get some clothes and toys?”
Petra’s dark eyebrows raised at the mention of toys, but she snuggled deeper into Cooper’s shoulder. “Hungry,” she mumbled, her eyes still only half-open.
“We’ll make you breakfast,” he promised, moving his hand over her back. Her eyes slid shut, and I thought she might have fallen back to sleep.
Cooper's voice low, he said, “I'll give you my credit card. Get whatever she needs. Long-term, not just for the next week or so.”
I looked at the little girl holding on to Cooper, my heart melting and twisting with worry at the same time. What was it about a tough guy holding a little kid that was so sexy? If I could have blinked Petra back into her bedroom, I might have jumped him right there.
Sexiness aside, did he really know what long-term meant? I thought he did. He'd said he wasn't letting Maxwell put Petra in danger. Knowing Maxwell, I couldn't imagine he was truly interested in being a parent to this little girl. Not now that he’d dumped her on Cooper.
Regardless, Cooper didn't look like he planned to let her go.
“Are you sure?” I asked, aware that Petra looked asleep but might be listening to every word.
Cooper reached out with his free hand and wove his fingers through mine, pulling me to his side. His eyes fixed on me, a question lurking in their depths, he said, “She’s my sister. I’m sure. Are you okay with that? We haven’t talked about—”
“I'm okay with it.” The words shot out before I could think, but I didn't regret them.
I knew she was Maxwell's daughter, but seeing her in Cooper's arms, her dark head tucked against his shoulder, she might have been his. In the secret part of my heart, I’d imagined a little girl that looked like Cooper, and here she was, flesh and blood.
The logical part of my brain protested. This little girl was going to need full-time care. She needed parents. Is that what we wanted? Cooper was a workaholic. So was I. I had my classes and my friends. Cooper traveled for work.
I’d always pictured a life with children, but that was the fuzzy, distant future. Petra was here now.
I took in the curve of her cheek, flushed with sleep, the fan of dark lashes against her skin. So innocent. Far too vulnerable.
Was I going to tell this little girl she was inconvenient? That she wasn’t part of my plans?
Were children ever convenient? Even when you'd planned for them?
I had a feeling the answer was No.
I decided to worry about all of that later. For now, Petra needed a sense of stability. She needed affection and care. Food and clean clothes. I may not know what long-term meant, not yet, but I’d happily handle affection and care.
Cooper glanced at the clock over the stove. “I have to get downstairs. Are you okay with her this morning? I can—”
“I’m good. Give her to me. I'll get her some breakfast. When you get downstairs, check with Maxwell and see if he has a bag for her. I can take her shopping in her pajamas but—”
Something occurred to me, and I reached up to tug at the back of her pajama pants. As I'd expected, she was wearing a diaper or a pull-up or something. Not potty-trained.
“At the least, she probably needs a new pull-up or whatever before we go out.”
Cooper transferred the sleeping toddler from his arms to mine, and she resettled herself against me, nestling her head in the hollow between my neck and collarbone, eyes open but still drowsy.
Cooper pressed a soft kiss to my mouth, both of us aware of Petra taking it all in. He reached out to run the back of a finger up and down her soft cheek before promising, “I'll see you later, Petra, okay?”
She nodded, reaching out to tap his chin with her fingertip. “Look like Daddy.”
Something burned in Cooper's eyes as he caught her finger in his and shook it in a jiggling motion that made her giggle. “I look like your daddy because I'm your big brother. And you’re my little sister.”
Petra looked up at him, uncomprehending. There was a sweetness to her that was a miracle considering Maxwell had been her primary caregiver for the last six months. I had to wonder about the poor girl who’d been her mother.
My bet was that Mila had loved her little girl, had given her as much as she could in the short time they had together. Cooper pressed a quick kiss to her forehead, dropped another on my cheek, and left.
I wished he could stay. I had no idea what I was doing with a three-year-old, but whatever happened with Petra, it was going to be better than what Cooper was walking into.
He and his brothers may have found Maxwell, but holding onto him was another matter altogether.
Petra patted my cheek with her open palm to get my attention. When I looked down into those familiar ice-blue eyes, she said, “Hungry. Beffast?”
Breakfast I could do. “Eggs? Toast?”
Thankfully, Petra nodded. I settled her into my chair at the bar, suddenly aware how high it was off the hardwood floor. I slid my plate of half-finished eggs and slice of toast in front of her and she tucked in.
The food was cold, but she ate with such appetite and lack of complaint I had to wonder when Maxwell had last fed her.
When she was halfway finished, my phone beeped with a text.
Griffen's on his way up with Petra’s bag.
So, she did have a bag. That was something. Griffen let himself in, a good thing since I was Petra’s seatbelt for the tall chair at the kitchen bar where she was eating. She needed a high chair. Another thing to put on the list.
I hoped Lily was coming with us. I knew Petra needed clothes and pull-ups or diapers or whatever she was wearing. Hopefully, Lily would be able to tell me the difference. A high chair. What else?
Griffen stopped in front of us, his green eyes soft as they landed on Petra. In a low voice, he said, “She’s the spitting image of Maxwell and the rest of them, isn't she?”
“She is,” I agreed. “Is that her bag?”
“What there is of it,” he said, handing me a beat-up gym bag, disdain for Maxwell heavy in his voice.
As I unzipped the bag and rooted through it, Griffen went on, “I heard from Lily. She and Adam are going to come with us. We'll swing by and pick them up on the way.”
I looked up in relief. “That would be great. Doesn't Adam have kindergarten?”
“Lily said he can miss a day. She thought he’d want to meet Petra, and Petra might feel better with another little kid around.”
“Good thinking,” I mumbled, sorting through Petra’s meager possessions.
There wasn't much. A few changes of clothes, most of them well-worn, and half of a package of pull-ups size 2T – 3T. I took a quick picture of the package with my phone so I’d know what to get at the store. Checking the tags in the clothes, I found they were a mix between 2T and 3T.
When Petra was done eating, I coaxed her into trying on both sizes, quickly determining that the 2T was a close fit and the 3T was better, if a little too big. I added to the list I’d started on my phone. There weren’t any shoes in the bag, and she hadn't been wearing any the night before.
I added shoes. We’d figure out her size at the store.
She also had nothing in the way of grooming supplies.
No hairbrush, no ponytail holders or barrettes.
No toothbrush or toothpaste. I added those, too, and gave Petra's hair a quick brush with my own, glad that despite its length her hair wasn't too tangled and felt clean.
At least Maxwell had bathed her recently.
Thinking about the way she’d devoured the cold eggs, I wondered if she’d been eating enough. The idea that she hadn’t, that Maxwell hadn’t been taking care of her basic needs—I didn’t want to think about it.
Was she slight because that was her natural build or because she was hungry? When things settled down, we’d have to find her a pediatrician. On our way out the door I grabbed a small orange and some soft granola bars from the pantry in case she got hungry again.
In the garage we piled into Knox's SUV, Griffen explaining, “We don't have a car seat for her, but Knox has a booster for Adam. That’ll have to do until we can buy her the kind she needs at the store.”
I added Car Seat to the list. Once we were settled, Petra clutching my hand, Griffen pulled out on the street, sending me a quick look through the rearview mirror. “You okay with all this?”
“Weirdly, yeah,” I said honestly. “I mean, surprised. Worried for Cooper. He’s, it’s—” I glanced at Petra, who was staring out the window. I wasn’t going to say Maxwell’s name in front of her. I didn’t need to.
“You still mad at him?”
“At Cooper? Nope, not mad at Cooper.”
“Yeah, I get you.” Griffen knew exactly who I was mad at, and it wasn’t Cooper. Now I had a whole new reason I could happily kill Maxwell.