Chapter 5 #2
“Stay out of this,” she said, moving out from around him. Her brow furrowed. Those amber eyes turned to a dark maple. “Owen!”
Caitlyn waved her hand to catch his attention. “What are you looking at?”
“You,” he said.
She looked—well, pissed. He didn’t get it. What had he done to her? Her eyes, more narrowed than wide, glared at him, but her stance said she’d flee at a moment’s notice. Couldn’t she see he wanted to help? Wanted—not needed—to protect her.
A kid that couldn’t have been older than ten poked his head out the door, eyes wide and wary.
Sebastian’s stomach lurched. Years on the beat had left him with a hair trigger for anything that smacked of neglect.
The sight of the kid alone with a belligerent drunk like Pops sent an icy dread down his spine.
“You need to go,” Caitlyn motioned dismissively. “I’ve got to get back to work.”
Sebastian hesitated, his gave flickering between the woman and the child.
The straightforward answer was to leave, like she said.
But the kid’s nervous stare, the echo of countless past cases, held him rooted in place.
“You’re going to leave him here?” His voice came out rougher than intended, laced with tension.
“I ain’t watching him,” Pops grunted as he passed.
Owen looked at Caitlyn with a questioning glance. She placed her hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Go grab your handheld game and get in the car.”
Owen glanced around at Sebastian. The kid had his mother’s eyes and a dark mop of hair on his head. “Who are you?”
“A friend of your mother’s.”
Owen snorted. “Yeah, right.” He headed after the old man.
“Hey!” Caitlyn called. “Manners.”
“What did I say?” Owen asked.
“You good taking him to work?” How many times had he been called to a domestic dispute or seen kids like Owen abused? “I’m headed over to Yeats’ place. The kid could come hang with us until your shift’s done.”
“We’re good. If I return soon, my shift won’t last much longer. But I need to get back.”
Sebastian pushed his hands into his pockets. Owen and the old man disappeared into the house.
“You leave him here alone often?”
Caitlyn moved off the porch toward her vehicle. “He’s been fine with Pops.”
He wanted to believe her. Sebastian saw the gloss in the old man’s eyes, his stagger as he lifted one foot and then the other to climb the stairs on the porch.
In his experience, there were two types of drunks: the mean and the depressed.
By the snark in his comments to Caitlyn, Sebastian doubted it was the latter.
For both their sakes, he wanted to be wrong.
“If you’re sure.” He cupped the back of his neck. It’s not your place. Don’t get involved.
Audra’s face, her arms battered and bruised, caused a wave of nausea.
“Help me,” her voice pleaded. Big tears rolled down her eyes.
She cradled her stomach, and the staunch of blood nearly made him vomit.
“Pike’s been here.” Not a question. Tiger sent him to this address.
He knew what Pike was looking for. “Find her,” Tiger said.
Sebastian squeezed the back of his neck, the pressure grounding him to the present. It wasn’t until after he watched them bury Audra and saw Pike dead that Tiger’s intentions registered.
“I’m sure,” Caitlyn said.
To the right of the house, an oversized two-car garage rose from cement blocks. Several old cars, a truck without a bed, and a few motorcycles littered the yard. The old house porch leaned toward the rusted lawn ornaments.
The grass in the yard stood a foot high. Maybe she expected the kid to mow it. As his father would say, they could bale hay from the height of the grass in the front yard alone.
He glanced around, expecting to see Caitlyn’s silver motorcycle. She must keep it locked in the garage, away from thieves and prying eyes.
Sebastian let his hand slip away from his neck.
Her brow arched, and her lips pressed out. They’d be sweeter than tea, he imagined. And that nearly had him sweating with panic. Fighting for the fist of control he kept over his emotions, Sebastian focused on the boy.
Caitlyn called out to Owen, returning outside and telling him, “Vamanos.”
There was no arguing with that. “You’ll be okay?”
“You don’t need to worry about me. I’ve been taking care of my father for a long time.” The fire in those amber eyes dimmed. Her shoulders sagged a little as she said, “He’s not as scary as he looks, okay?”
“Sure,” Sebastian said, not wanting to set her off again.
“Did something happen to your Rebel?” she asked, her gaze flicking pointedly between him and the landscaping truck. “That’s Yeats’ landscaping truck.”
“I’m working there during the week.”
Her lips twitched upward in what could have been a smile, but the tension in her shoulders and how she kept glancing at the house told a different story.
He didn’t want to pry. It wasn’t his place to get involved. Yet, the struggle in her eyes settled a new understanding in his gut. “I won’t keep you.” He offered gently. “I know you can handle this, but I wanted to offer you backup if needed.”
“This isn’t the range, and I don’t need you to do anything for me outside of work.” Caitlyn glanced at the house. Owen skipped down off the porch. “You need to go. I’ll see you on the course in a few days.”
“Sure.” He held onto his truck keys, unable to convince his hips to swivel and to turn to leave. She reached up, pulled her hair into a messy bun, and held it with a thin black band from her pocket.
She walked up to the porch and peered inside momentarily before wrapping her arm around Owen’s shoulders and leading him to her vehicle.
“Not your problem,” he muttered to himself. Not going to get involved with another woman and her problems.
Yet, he just did.