Chapter Twelve – What I Want
Chapter Twelve
Cooper
WHAT I WANT
Performed by Morgan Wallen w/ Tate McRae
Seeing Andie like this, with her Halloween makeup washed off and tears littering her cheeks, she looked impossibly young. The image tangled in my chest. My innate desire to rescue and put things right blended with my self-preservation instinct.
I’d fallen for the younger woman before and paid the price—was still paying the price. I had received the best gift in my life out of it—Luca—but he’d been scarred almost as badly as I had.
Neither of us had recovered.
I couldn’t afford to fall for another pretty face.
But God help me, the trembling, the wild look in those stormy eyes, landed like a hit I couldn’t just ignore. She was terrified. Someone had caused a normally confident and strong woman to turn into a quivering mass.
I wanted to strangle whoever it was. Wanted to find them, get a few punches in, and then lock them up for life and throw away the key.
Like I’d done with Eden’s stalker. I’d rescued her, locked him up, and lost my soul in the process… At least I still had a heart. My son had revived it.
“Let’s get you off the floor,” I suggested. “I’m going to help you up. Is that okay?”
Wide eyes searched mine for a long moment before giving the barest of nods.
I put my hands on both elbows and eased her to her feet. The dog nearly knocked us down again by pushing into us.
“Sit,” I growled at him.
He did, but he shot me a look that said I’d stolen his joy just as I had stolen it from all of them when I’d interrupted them in the backyard.
Once Andie seemed steady on her feet, I guided her to one of the tall-backed barstools next to the counter.
Once Andie was seated, I dropped my hands and rubbed them on my jeans, hoping to brush away the heat of her. I turned and searched the cabinets until I found the glasses, filled one from the water dispenser next to the refrigerator, and then handed it to her.
Her hands shook as she sipped. She put the glass down and buried her face in her palms.
“I’m s-sorry. I s-swear, I don’t do this regularly.”
The longing I had to wrap her in my arms and soothe her had me putting more space between us.
I backed up to the other side of the kitchen, crossed my arms, and leaned against the counter.
I gave her time to collect herself while I turned my attention to the kitchen itself.
It needed a remodel. The appliances were from this decade, but I doubted the cupboards had been touched in at least twenty years or more.
The stain was patchy, the wood thirsting for oil and wax.
It made me itch to bring them back to life.
When enough time had gone by and she still hadn’t explained what she’d meant, when she still remained silent, irritation took over.
“As you don’t strike me as the type to really believe in ghosts, wanna tell me what actually happened?”
She ran her crooked index finger along the rim of the glass. “Someone was in my house.”
What the hell?
I was already stalking out of the kitchen, heading toward the bedrooms as she shouted after me, “They’re not here now. They’re gone.”
I ignored her, wishing for the damn weapon I’d placed in my gun safe as soon as I’d walked through my front door.
I eased through each room, closet, and bath. The house had a similar floor plan to mine, but in reverse, which meant her bedroom faced mine. As I searched, I saw no signs of a break-in. No signs of anything out of place.
But every vacant room I walked through, every empty shelf I saw, made my body grow tighter. She’d lived here for nearly ten months, and yet the house was practically empty.
What did that say about her? It said she was a woman on the run. Ready to pack up and leave at the slightest provocation. And yet…she’d been in Swift Rivers for eight years. She’d said I was a conundrum, but it was a word more applicable to her than me.
My initial reaction to her, the instincts I’d honed well over my years in law enforcement, came back with a vengeance. Nothing in her backstory should have raised a flag, and yet it had. It had been too clean. Too bland. Too perfect.
Was she in witness protection? Was this sham of a life hiding her from trouble?
Or was she the trouble? Was she a criminal who’d turned on her partners for a deal? The majority of those in witness protection were just that.
By the time I got back to the kitchen, I had all my walls back up. I wouldn’t let a pretty face and teary eyes reel me in. Not this time.
She’d pulled herself together in my absence. No sign of the tears lingered, her shoulders were straight, and her face was perfectly arranged.
“Did you actually see someone in here?” I demanded.
She shook her head, and I raised a brow.
“The cereal box…” Her voice died. “I know it’s going to sound stupid. But the cereal box. It’s open… There’s cereal on the shelf.”
Relief flooded me along with a fair amount of annoyance. She’d actually had me worried for a moment over a tipped cereal box? “That could have been a mouse. Or a rat. They’re common in these old homes on acreage. It’s a constant battle at my parents’ place.”
“And a mouse can undo a clip? Take the clip off and then run off with it?” she asked testily.
Color rushed back into her cheeks, accentuating her freckles.
She waved to a set of mason jars on the counter.
“And a mouse could remove the sealed lid from the sugar container? Or how about the zipped bag of dog treats in the cookie jar?”
I saw the specks of sugar along the laminate counter. I eased over, eyeing but not touching the lid that was, in fact, unscrewed. Not a rodent, then.
The dog treats… Maybe she’d given Akela one and simply forgotten to close it? Or hell, Luca could have done it. The kid was constantly leaving bags open at our house.
The pantry door was open, and I went to scan the contents. Not much there either, but there was a box of Luca’s favorite cereal on its side with a few pieces spread along the shelf.
I turned around to find her watching me, a thumb sliding along her chin. I returned to the counter and noticed for the first time that the spot she had a habit of rubbing was actually a scar about an inch long. With makeup, it was easily hidden, but her freshly washed face put it on display.
As if realizing the scar had caught my attention, she pulled her hand away, but it only made it easier for me to see the rest of the marks that had been left on her beautiful face.
A slash through her left eyebrow. A nose that was slightly off center.
Another scar on her forehead, at her hairline, that joined the one at her temple.
One above the tip of her Cupid’s bow lips.
Nearly half a dozen visible ones.
How many more were on a body she’d covered with a sweatshirt and leggings?
The fury I’d felt before rammed back into me. Someone had done a number on her.
Had she earned these marks due to criminal activities? Or had she been a helpless victim?
Would I ever really know the truth?
Part of me had no desire to know, and yet, in order to keep my son and this town safe, I might need the whole damn story.
She’d, unfortunately, become more than just a neighbor.
She’d reeled my son in with a dog and her charm just as she’d reeled me in with her smile and strength and the chemistry that zapped between us.
But this kind of trouble was the last thing Luca or I needed.
“I see you and Luca have the same taste in cereal.” No response. “I knew he’d been coming over here to help with chores. He swore it was to pay you back for the window, but it’s obviously been for the damn dog. Did you give him a key?”
She shook her head.
I sighed. That didn’t mean he hadn’t gotten in. Luca had a way with locks. He’d had to learn when his mother had accidentally locked him out one too many times after the housekeeper had already left for the day.
Uneasy, as I always was, discussing my son’s less-than-upstanding activities, I said, “Luca’s good with locks.”
She stilled, eyebrows rising in surprise before she scanned the house again.
“You can press charges if you want, but I promise it won’t happen again. He won’t step foot inside without your permission, even if it’s to take care of the dog or do whatever chores you two have worked out.”
She rubbed her chest.
“You…you think this was Luca?”
“Unless you think the person you’re afraid of would settle for eating some cereal and adding some sugar to an already sugar-laden bowl?” I watched her carefully, but she was a damn good actress and didn’t reveal a single thought. She had all her emotions tucked away.
That only set off more of my alarms.
When she still didn’t respond, I pushed. “You said this was a ghost. Is the guy who did that to you dead?” I used my eyes to point to the scar on her chin.
She touched it. “Y-yes.”
“But you’re still afraid of someone? Someone he knew?”
She swallowed, rubbed her arms, and then simply nodded.
“I can’t protect you unless you tell me who it is. I can find out where they’re at and if they’ve been here in Rivers.”
She froze, as if the idea of whoever this was being in town was enough to cause another panic attack. But she slowly recovered, shaking her head. “I don’t need you to do that.”
My jaw tightened. It only meant she had someone she trusted doing it for her. Disappointment blended with relief. I wouldn’t be required to step in and be her savior. But I had a right to know what was going on if my son was hanging out here and putting himself in the bull’s-eye.
When I told her as much, she pressed her hand to her chest as if to calm the beat inside it.
“You’re right…” Tears welled once more in those beautiful eyes. “He shouldn’t be here. It’s just… Akela…”
She looked down at the dog lying at her feet and taking up almost the entire length of the short L of the counter.
“How did Luca rope you into taking the dog to begin with?”