33. Chloe
Chloe
One month later
Growing up, I always wished I could have a dad like the other kids. Even at eighteen, I was fine with settling for a stepdad.
When he fell from that ladder and my mom urged me to say it was an accident, she told me that it was my real father’s idea. That he was a good man and he would help us.
Captain Henry Barrett was the only member of law enforcement to show up to the body floating in our pool, and in that moment, I knew immediately it was him.
I don’t blame him for his decision to leave. That’s water under the bridge that I don’t bother dwelling on, and he’s more than made up for it. Though I don’t rely on him to help me.
He has his own family now. A wife, children, grandchildren, and I’d never want his support if it meant he’d be risking all he’s managed to build.
I could wish that I was living that life. But then, who would appreciate everything I’ve built?
He’s always there in the background, doing what he can to make sure things turn out okay, and he does what he can to protect my mother as well, so he gets to live as far as I’m concerned.
I’m kidding.
I finish tugging the baby blue Lindsey LaRue sweater over Rue’s legs before I pick her up, carrying her across the house on the first floor to the guest quarters through the hallway under the staircase. There’s a bedroom, bathroom, laundry, and even a small area for cooking.
My mother had the house built custom, half of the top floor is mine and the other hers. She always said you should have all vital amenities on the first floor, in case something happens that prevents you from being able to use stairs.
As I come to the doorway of Elizabeth Mills’ room, her eyes light up when she sees me and Rue, and I silently thank my mother for her never-ending wisdom.
Elizabeth’s skin looks brighter, her eyes happier, the green in them more vibrant than Colin’s.
And though she still moves gingerly to prevent falls, there’s a noticeable skip to her step as she moves about that makes my heart swell, especially when she shoots me a sly wink that looks close to a thank you.
“Okay, so, Rue won’t eat again until six, but she likes to nibble on bell peppers before dinner.”
I lift the little Yorkie into the air and scrunch my nose as I nuzzle my face into her soft fur. “But she hates the yellow ones, only give her the red ones. And she usually goes to the bathroom right after she eats, so just make sure the gate is closed when you open the back door.”
Setting Rue onto the ground, I stand straight again, meeting Elizabeth’s amused stare. “Oh, and—”
“Chlo, we’re going bowling. We’ll be home in a couple of hours.” Colin’s hand finds the back of my neck, squeezing and sending a bout of shivers across my skin.
“I get it,” Colin’s mother interjects, lifting Rue off the floor and tucking her under her arm. “The kids had dogs growing up.”
My eyes soften as I watch Rue press her face into Elizabeth’s hand, encouraging her to continue petting. “Lucky.”
I always wanted a dog or a cat. I would have settled for anything, really, even a bird or a snake. But my mother was on the road a lot when I was growing up, and she swore up and down I’d forget to feed it. To this day I vehemently deny that would have happened.
“Okay then.” I lean forward and give Rue a quick kiss on her furry face. “Be good for grandma, okay?”
Colin wraps his hand around mine and pulls me away from his mother’s bedroom door. At the end of the hallway, he swings me wide and pulls me tight to his body, eliciting a squeal from me.
“You ready to kick some ass, detective?” I whisper, bouncing my nose against his.
“Always, Stark.” He presses his lips to mine, so gentle and firm at the same time. As he pulls away and smiles at me with a hooded gaze, I feel so incredibly desperate for more of him, yet completely satisfied.
I pull him this time, out the front door and toward his truck until we’re buckled in and on our way to Mickey’s for our first bowling league tournament.
The sun is setting in the distance, bathing the sky around us in a swirl of pink and orange.
“Do you think your mother will like it here?” I clasp my hands in my lap, keeping my stare toward the window, but I feel Colin turn toward me from the driver’s seat. He reaches over and gently sets his hand over mine, waiting for me to face him.
“She’s going to love it.” I didn’t ask what I wanted to ask, but he still heard me. I loosen my grip on my own hands, wrapping them around his and holding it in my lap all the way to the bowling alley.
Stone already has a variety of drinks on the table in front of our lane, and Stella and Maeve are already deep in conversation on the leather couch beside him. He and Colin shake hands when we make it over to the group and find seats, waiting for the tournament to begin.
We’re one body short, but the judges are letting us play with a five-man team until we can get a sixth person to join.
“Do you think Micah will be back in time for the next tournament?” Maeve asks Colin, her eyes round with hope. She takes her bottom lip between her teeth, and I know she’s trying hard to not seem as interested as she is.
After he carried her unconscious body from the warehouse, he drove her straight to the hospital.
The same one that batty-ass nurse doped me up with extra pain meds and kept me knocked out for hours.
The very next day, Micah took leave from the department, and hasn’t returned.
Colin doesn’t even think he’s in town anymore and says he hasn’t had any contact with him, but he did say the leave he took wasn’t permanent, that he should be back eventually.
His absence is curious, especially because I’d seen the look in his eyes when we were talking about saving Maeve.
He looked on the verge of going feral over her, and he’s never even met her before.
Of course, I told Maeve that, and she’s been very eager to meet the handsome, tattooed man who saved her life.
Colin gives me his attempt at a simultaneously sad and reassuring smile, but he’s shit at that one.
He takes my hand in his before responding to Maeve.
“Maybe,” he says, shrugging. I kick him in the ankle and he’s quick to change his tune.
“Yeah,” he says, his voice high because he’s also a shit liar. He nods too quickly. “He’ll be back.”
“Okay, apparently you can’t yell whammy when you get a strike,” Stella says, her voice hushed as she leans into us and reads the local bowling league rules.
“No way that’s in the rules!” I argue. “Whammy is my thing. How are people going to know I got a strike?”
Her brows pinch together as she stares at her phone screen, reading the rules Mickey emailed us over the weekend. “It’s bad taste, Chlo. No excessive celebration.”
“It is not that serious, Jesus Christ.” I roll my eyes, eyeing the other teams across the lanes. Just as we’d argued before, it’s mostly old men.
Mickey’s voice comes over the loudspeaker as she does team introductions, and each lane takes turns waving when theirs is announced. Everyone was in agreement on the team name except Colin, but majority rules.
The four of us cheer—and I force Colin’s arm into the air—when Mickey shouts Law & Horror, dragging out the second half of the name and following it up with the echo of her drumroll against the bar top.
Ten minutes later when it’s my turn to bowl, I slap my hands onto my thighs, blowing out a breath in preparation before I stand. Colin’s warm hand grips my wrist before I can pull away. He tugs me back to him, forcing me to lean forward and press my hands to his thighs for balance.
“Do you know what your weapon is?” he whispers.
I tilt my head as I stare down at him, and I can’t resist glancing from his eyes to his lips and back. “What?”
“You’re so beautiful from far away. So innocent looking. They’ll never see you coming.” He winks, and nods at me to go, but I hesitate, a weightlessness washing through my body.
“What about up close?”
“Up close?” he repeats, reaching up and tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. His voice drops to a breathy hush that fans across my lips when he says, “Dangerously blinding.”
And then he urges me off him and toward the lane to kick some ass.