CHAPTER 12
“All it takes is a single spark…”
ISABELLE CAMPBELL
I’d chewed my nails down to nothing that afternoon.
Helen was going to kill me, I just knew it. I was always the last to find out about everything—and discovering that Hanna had been sleeping in Colin’s daughter’s bed nearly gave me a heart attack.
Colin had been so sweet with Hanna lately, and that terrified me a little. He was calm now, but what if one day he snapped? I couldn’t even imagine how I’d react as a mother… or how my daughter would.
The latest stunt from my little whirlwind was following Joshua around for two straight hours, practically begging him to play with her. I thought it wouldn’t work—but clearly, I still underestimated her persistence. Next thing I knew, they were both in the garden.
At first, Joshua had that familiar scowl on his face, but it didn’t last long. Somehow, she’d worn him down, and now they were laughing together—playing some kind of trivia game in one of the sitting rooms.
When I went to check on them again, I saw Colin and Helen talking nearby. His face looked… softer. Kinder. Maybe seeing something like that had pulled out the last bits of his “human” side.
“One of us should probably stop them before this game goes on forever,” I said, walking over to him.
“I have too much work to do. I’ll let you two decide who handles it,” Helen said before slipping away, clearly amused.
Colin didn’t say anything once she left. For a second, I thought it was because of me, but then he spoke—softly, almost to himself.
“After Maddison died, he wouldn’t play with any of his friends. He used to say the only person worth playing with was his sister. I’m… honestly surprised by what I’m seeing.”
“Oh, but Hanna had to chase him for quite a while,” I said, laughing. Colin smiled—just barely, but he did.
“I heard. She’s… persistent.”
“Persistent?!” I met his eyes and instantly regretted it. “She always gets what she wants.”
“I know.”
Now he was the one looking at me—really looking—and I could tell he was thinking of saying something else. He didn’t. Instead, his gaze lingered long enough to make me nervous. Those eyes… they could unravel me.
“Well, I guess we should talk to the kids and—”
“What was your relationship like with Hanna’s father?”
That stopped me cold. Of all the questions he could have asked… why that one?
“Good,” I said quickly, too quickly.
“You sure?” His tone made it clear he didn’t buy it.
“Are you seriously asking if I’m sure?”
“I think you’re lying,” he said flatly, not even pretending to deny it.
I didn’t understand Colin’s sudden curiosity—or why he seemed so invested in this conversation—but I wasn’t about to go there.
“We were a normal couple. We had our ups and downs, like anyone else.”
“Interesting. You made sure to mention the flaws, not the good parts.”
I stared at him again, caught by those eyes that seemed to pull every truth I wanted to hide. This conversation was becoming way too dangerous.
“Uncle Colin! Uncle Colin! Wanna play with us?”
Thank God. My daughter had the perfect sense of timing.
“Maybe another day, okay?” he said with a smile, turning his attention back to Joshua, who was sitting quietly.
“Okay.”
Colin called out to Jeanne, who appeared almost instantly.
“Take them to get cleaned up. I think they’ve had enough for today.”
“Of course, Colin.”
Apparently, no one in this house dared call him Mr. anything.
Once they were gone, I realized I wanted to disappear too. Colin was still looking at me—that same steady gaze that felt like it could see straight through me.
“How about a game of questions and answers?” he said, bending down to help me gather the cards the kids had left scattered on the floor.
“You’re joking, right?”
“Nope. It’ll be fun. Though I should warn you—it’s not exactly advisable to play anything with me.”
“Oh really? And why’s that?” I asked, intrigued.
“I hate losing. And I always get what I want.”
Another warning disguised as charm. Typical.
“Then maybe I shouldn’t play,” I said lightly.
“That’s a shame,” he replied, eyes still locked on mine.
“There’ll be other opportunities, I’m sure—”
“You don’t get it,” he interrupted. “It’s a shame you didn’t agree willingly, because we’re playing—right now.”
I let out a small laugh, thinking he was teasing, but Colin wasn’t joking.
“You’re serious?”
“Do I look like I’m joking? Three questions.”
No, he definitely wasn’t.
“And if it’s a tie...?”
“There won’t be one.”
I glanced at the box—some kids’ trivia game for ages eight and under—and felt a wave of relief.
“Can I start?” I asked brightly, grabbing one of the cards.
“Go ahead,” he said, leaning back with that infuriating little smirk.
I drew a card from the pile and read the riddle aloud. “What color is known worldwide as the symbol of peace?”
“White,” he answered immediately, dead serious.
“Too easy. Your turn.”
Colin picked a card, glanced at it for barely a second, then put it back on the stack.
“How was your relationship really with Hanna’s father?” he asked, stressing the word really.
I froze. What the hell was this man plotting, repeating that same question from minutes ago?
“That’s… not written on the card,” I said, my voice small, a touch of nervous laughter escaping.
“Shame you’re not sure about that. Time’s running out.”
He wasn’t going to let this go. The way he was looking at me made me feel like prey—and he was the hunter. Something about this felt off.
“At first we got along fine,” I started carefully, trying to keep my voice even, “but things went downhill fast, especially after I found out he was gambling away huge amounts of money. I think that’s when everything started falling apart. Eventually, he just left.”
I tried to sound calm, but inside I was furious for even giving him that much. Colin didn’t know me, and if he thought I was going to hand him personal details without getting something in return, he was dead wrong.
“I see,” he said simply.
“My turn.”
I grabbed a card from the stack and mirrored his little pause before asking, “Why do you think isolating yourself will make the pain in your chest go away?”
If he wanted to play, I’d play.
He probably expected that. His face didn’t move, though—same controlled, unreadable expression.
“It won’t,” he said quietly. “My isolation has nothing to do with easing or worsening the pain. I just... can’t do the things that used to feel normal before Maddison died. I’ll never accept losing my daughter the way I did. And I’ll never forgive myself for it.”
“And what about your wife, I—”
“You’ve got one question left. You sure you want to waste it on that?”
“Maybe… we should just drop this game,” I said, standing up.
“Did he ever hit you or your daughter?” he asked, standing too.
This had gone way too far—and even a blind man could see it.
“That’s personal.”
“I know.”
He didn’t look away, and for a moment, I couldn’t either. Like him, there were things I struggled to say out loud.
“Yes,” I finally admitted. “He hit me. But he never touched Hanna. It started with shoving, then slaps… and one day, he punched me. I threatened to go to the police right then, but he said if I did, he’d take Hanna away forever, and I’d never see her again.
I gave in—like an idiot. I was young, terrified, and stupid enough to believe him.
After that, whenever he took her out, he’d stay gone longer than he should, just to scare me.
Still, Hanna adored him. You know how she is—she bonds with people easily.
But after that day, I made sure never to leave them alone together again.
“For a while, he seemed to change. He apologized every day, said he was trying to be better—for her, for me.
And I believed him, because he was working hard to provide for us, and he treated me the way he did when we first met.
He never hit me again. But a few months later, he disappeared. Completely gone.
“If I’d had the mindset I have now, I never would’ve stayed after the first time he laid a hand on me. Because it was never just physical—it was emotional, too.”
Colin was still staring at me, but now he looked... tense. Shaken, even. I was too. I didn’t talk about this kind of thing. Ever.
“You’re right,” he said quietly. “This game went too far.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said, my voice catching a little. “I still have one question left.”
He didn’t answer, so I took a breath and went for it. “What’s your problem with my kiss? Was it really that bad—kissing a woman who hasn’t been with anyone in months? Why threaten me when you could just stay the hell away?”
“I think you’re over your question limit,” he muttered, turning away. But I wasn’t done.
“And I think you don’t have the guts to tell me the truth.”
And there I was—confronting my boss about a kiss that should’ve been forgotten days ago.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said, his deep voice filling the space between us.
“Yeah, figured. Guess I’m just not good enough for you, huh?”
“Don’t ever say that again!”
He took two quick steps toward me, closing the distance until his body was almost pressed against mine.
“Colin—”
“I’m not afraid of you,” he growled.
“I never said you were.”
“Why the hell do you think you’re a bad kisser?” he asked, brows arched, his voice low, steady—laced with impatience and something I couldn’t quite name.
His eyes burned into me, and for a split second, I felt small under that intensity.
“Is that your third question?” I teased, trying to keep it light, but the irony came out shaky, masking the nervousness clawing at my chest.
I don’t know if it was the challenge in my tone or the way I refused to look away, but something in Colin snapped. He moved fast—too fast—and before I could react, he pinned me against the wall.
The shock of the cold surface against my back made me gasp, but the heat of him swallowed it whole. His body pressed against mine, his scent surrounding me, the sound of my breath catching in my throat—and then his mouth was on mine. No warning. No hesitation. Just raw, reckless urgency.
The kiss was rough, uneven, a mess of anger and want. His mouth moved over mine with hunger, like he wanted to punish me and lose himself in me all at once. Maybe that was exactly what he was doing.
My hands, trapped between us, couldn’t decide whether to push him away or pull him closer. The confusion melted into the shiver running through me. Colin kissed like a man at war—with pain, with passion, with everything he’d been holding back. And I… I gave in. Completely.
He tasted sharp and hot and addictive. His lips were firm, his tongue deliberate, each movement tearing a little more of my resistance apart. I could feel his heartbeat racing against mine, his body tense, control slipping through the cracks of our breathless gasps.
He tilted his head, deepening the kiss, and the world vanished. There was nothing but the sound of our breathing, the brush of skin, and the shrinking space between us.
Then the kiss changed—from fury to desperation. It felt like he was trying to say everything he didn’t dare admit out loud.
And no matter how hard I tried to make sense of him, there was no logic in that man.
One moment he pushed me away, the next he pulled me closer. One second he was the edge of a cliff, the next he was the place I could fall.
My hands finally broke free and found the back of his neck, and the moment my fingers touched his skin, something in him ignited. He groaned softly into my mouth, the sound vibrating through me, dizzying.
The wall was cold, but everything else burned.
The kiss slowed, but it didn’t lose its intensity—it just shifted. It became something deeper, something that felt too much like surrender. Like rediscovering everything I’d tried so hard to bury.
When he finally pulled back, just enough to breathe, he kept his face close, lips grazing mine as his voice came out rough, thick with everything he wasn’t saying.
“You drive me insane…” he murmured, his warm breath brushing my skin.
For a moment, neither of us moved. We just stayed there—caught in the heavy air, in what was left of the kiss. His heartbeat thudded hard against my chest, and the heat radiating from him made it hard to breathe.
He kept his gaze locked on mine, those dark eyes intense, unflinching. When his hand slid up the side of my neck, a shiver tore through me. His touch was firm but careful, like he was testing how far he could go.
“Colin…” I whispered, but my voice came out weak, lost.
He leaned in, his nose brushing my skin until it reached my lips. The feather-light touch made me forget how to breathe.
His fingers sank lightly into my hair, his other hand steady at my waist, keeping me pinned against the wall.
When he kissed me again, it was slow this time—measured, deliberate, dangerously tender. Like he wanted to savor every second, to explore every reaction. The soft drag of his lips was subtle but deep enough to steal the air from my lungs.
My skin was on fire. The world tilted, spinning slower with each breath. The cold wall at my back only made his warmth feel hotter.
His fingers traced up the back of my neck, stopping at my jaw, guiding the kiss, deepening it. His touch was sure, yet there was a kind of gentleness that undid me completely.
When we finally pulled apart, just barely, he didn’t move away. His forehead rested against mine, his gaze holding me still as he whispered, voice low and raw—
“You have no idea what you do to me…”
I closed my eyes, trying to catch my breath, but he didn’t give me the chance. His lips found mine again, and the kiss became a rhythm of push and pull—somewhere between restraint and hunger, between wanting and trying to stop.
His breath mingled with mine, and when Colin’s hands gripped my waist, every rational thought I had vanished.
All that remained was the sound of our barely contained desire… and the sharp, terrifying certainty that if he didn’t stop now, I wouldn’t be able to either.
As if he’d read my mind, Colin suddenly pulled back and looked straight into my eyes.
“Still think I don’t like your kiss?”