Chapter 29
Trevor
“Idon’t know how I feel about this.” Maren stands close to me in the kitchen, watching Zara and her new buddy Quinn like a hawk. “He looks terrifying.”
I’m not sure we’re looking at the same guy. Quinn looks like the rest of the men I’ve met from Alaskan Security. Yes, he’s generally physically large and imposing, but he hasn’t been anything but polite and friendly since we picked him up from the private airport Pierce flew him into.
“Are you seriously terrified of him, or do you think Zara is terrified of him?” My attempt at gaining clarity earns me a scoff and a shove to one shoulder.
“I’m not terrified of anybody.” Maren looks from her sister to Quinn. “Zara doesn’t seem to be afraid of him either, but I’m a little worried about the rest of the kids at her school and the aftercare center.”
That has me looking at Quinn a little differently. “I can see how that might be a problem.”
We might be in the position of when it walks like a duck, swims like a duck, and quacks like a duck, it’s probably a duck.
Or in this case, a mercenary.
“Maybe it’ll be better when he’s not wearing tactical gear.” Maren sounds skeptical.
“I’m not sure it matters. We have a signed note from a doctor saying Zara is in need of additional monitoring for the foreseeable future. Quinn has identification showing he’s licensed to provide that sort of care. They don’t really have a leg to stand on if they want to fight us on this.”
Maren rubs at her eyes, looking tired. “I hope they don’t try to argue. I don’t want to make Zara’s time at school shitty because people are mad at me.”
I reach out to rest both hands on her shoulders, working the tight muscles there with my thumbs.
“If they fight us, we’ll just pull her out and send her to a private school.
” A private school won’t argue over Zara having a medical aide, even if he looks a little imposing.
And if they do, I’m sure I can throw money at the problem and make it go away.
“I can’t just pull her out of school, Trevor. Private school is expensive. Where am I going to come up with the money to—”
“I would pay for it.” I assumed that was understood when I suggested it. “She can go to the same school my brothers and I went to.” I like the sound of it already. Zara graduating from the same place I did. Getting to see her go across the stage where we all accepted our diplomas.
Maren snaps her fingers in front of my face. “You cannot just start paying for her to go to private school. That’s not how this is going to work.”
We haven’t really established what this is, so I can’t blame Maren for being confused about how it’s going to work.
I know her well enough to recognize I can’t simply tell her I’m paying for everything now and expect her to be fine with it.
Not after everything she’s been through.
Not after how hard she’s worked to claw her way out of the life she was born into.
I’m probably going to have to fight her every step of the way.
I’d like to think one day she’ll give up and let me take care of her and Zara without an argument, but that’s not the woman she is.
Which is probably why my dick is getting hard right now.
A lifetime of verbal sparring sounds pretty fucking good.
Almost as good as the makeup sex that will follow it.
“Are you sure about that?” I give her a quick kiss on the lips, moving fast, both so Zara doesn’t see and so I don’t get bitten. “I’m willing to negotiate the terms.”
Maren shoots me a stare she probably thinks is a glare. “You’re always willing to negotiate the terms.”
“Only with you.” I go to the fridge, grateful my mother dropped off food for us this morning so I have plenty of options to offer everyone. “Hey, Zara. Do you want lasagna or beef and noodles for dinner?”
Her little head pops up from where she’s sprawled on the floor with her coloring books. “Lasagna.”
“Lasagna, please.” Maren offers the correction as she reaches around me to grab a couple containers of salad from the fridge.
“Puh-lease.” Zara hollers the word, dragging it out before dissolving into a fit of giggles that makes me stop in my tracks.
For years, my house has been silent. Perfectly organized and impeccably clean. Everything exactly the way I paid for it to be.
Tonight, it’s loud. Chaotic. There are coloring books and crayons strewn across the great room and book bags and shoes piled next to the door.
My counters are covered in lunchboxes waiting to be unpacked, half-filled reusable water bottles, and the artwork Zara did at school today.
Voices fill the air as Maren reminds her sister she will be eating vegetables with her lasagna, and confirms Nana DeeDee did in fact pack a tray of frosted brownies for dessert.
For the first time, my house feels like a home.
“I know there’s a lot to choose from, but standing there with the fridge door open isn’t going to make the decision any easier.” Maren bumps me out of the way so she can grab Zara’s lasagna.
I hate that Maren’s trailer was burglarized.
Fully intend to do everything in my power to punish everyone responsible for stealing the home she created for Zara.
But in this moment—just for the tiniest second—I’m grateful it happened.
That it forced my hand. Made Maren take a step she likely wouldn’t have otherwise.
Because having Maren and Zara here is everything I could have ever wanted, and all I never believed I would have.
Maren pops the first meal into the microwave above my oven and frowns at the digital panel. “What sort of spaceship bullshit is this?”
I move in close, punching in a few numbers before setting it to run.
“That thing is ridiculous, you know that, right?” She looks down at the oven. “Holy crap. That one’s worse.”
I make a mental note to replace them. I won’t tell Maren I’m doing it. She’ll question the reasons, and I’m not quite prepared for the fallout of telling her I’m going to do everything I can to keep her from moving out when this whole mess is cleared up.
Actually, I plan to do everything in my power to get her to stay indefinitely.
Because I think Maren might actually get me. Understand why I’m so committed to McKinley Security Systems. Why I will always stay as late as I have to in order to make sure everything is as it should be.
Not that I stayed late tonight. Leaving at five o’clock was strange as hell, but couldn’t be avoided.
I wanted to be there when Maren picked Zara up, just in case someone was waiting to take advantage of the situation.
Quinn also needed to be collected from the airport, so it only made sense to tackle both tasks at the same time.
Plus, I need to be here while Zara and Quinn get to know each other.
Because if it’s not going to work, someone needs to drive his ass back to the airport.
Leaving at five was really the only option I had.
Working together, Maren and I heat up one of my mother’s prepared meals for each of us, lining them down the surface of my never-before-used dining room table before calling Quinn and Zara in to eat.
I watch as Quinn carefully offers support as the five-year-old gets up and makes her way through the house. She chatters the whole way, telling him about her friends at school, how much she enjoys dance class, and the petting zoo I bought.
That last one has him raising his eyebrows at me.
I just shrug. There’s no rational way to explain buying an entire petting zoo simply because you want a kid to be able to enjoy it in its entirety. But no one has ever accused me of being a rational sort of guy.
No, I’m the sort of guy who sets up hidden security cameras. The kind who sits outside an employee’s house under the guise of responsibility. The man who refits his kitchen appliances so they’ll be more user-friendly to the woman he hasn’t told is now a permanent resident.
I guess it’s good Maren thinks there’s something wrong with her for liking me staking out her house, because there sure as hell is a lot wrong with me.
We all sit down and dig into our meals. It’s not a traditional sort of dinner. No fancy serving dishes or expensive china being used. We’re eating out of plastic meal prep containers, and wiping our faces on paper towels.
It’s fucking perfect.
Right up until my phone starts to ring.
My eyes immediately go to Maren, expecting frustration. Annoyance. Maybe even disappointment.
Instead she sits up straighter, eyes locked on the cell in my hand. “You should probably answer that.” Her gaze snaps to my face, eyes widening as she slowly says, “It could be important.” She continues staring at me, brows lifting when I don’t immediately connect the call.
I can’t tell if she’s daring me to answer the phone, or legitimately wants me to do it, but I don’t have a choice. When Heidi calls, I answer.
I swipe my thumb across the screen and lift it to my ear. “Hi, Heidi.”
Maren jumps up from her seat, grabbing me by the arm. She gives Zara an overly bright smile. “We’ll be right back. Are you okay here with Mr. Quinn?”
Zara nods. “I’m fine.”
The second she has Zara’s confirmation, Maren drags me out of the room and down the hall into my office. Shoving me through the doorway, she closes the French doors behind us.
“Did she find something?” Maren’s earlier behavior surrounding the call makes a little more sense as she steps close, eager for information. “Was the camera still in use?”
I tap on the speaker of my phone so Maren can be an active participant in the conversation, then ask Heidi, “Did you hear that?”
“Yup.” Alaskan Security’s extroverted hacking authority sounds as bubbly as ever as she offers up answers. “They did shut it off shortly after Titus began running diagnostics, but they weren’t fast enough, so I have quite a bit to work with.”
I can hear the air rush from Maren’s lungs as relief washes over her expression. “Do you know who put it there?”
“Not yet, but I think there’s a high likelihood we’ll be able to identify someone.
Once I’ve finished compiling a list of names, I can cross reference that with the videos from the security cameras outside your trailer.
I know the men who broke in were wearing masks, but that doesn’t mean there’s no identifying information.
Same with the guy walking his dog. He had a baseball cap on and the collar of his jacket pulled up, so his face isn’t visible, but that isn’t a dealbreaker. ”
Maren steps closer to me as Heidi starts explaining how proportions and mathematical equations can be used to determine height and weight. Her hands grip the front of my shirt as she listens intently to a monologue about how clothing alone can be enough to track someone down.
By the time Heidi finishes telling us all about the tools at her disposal and how she plans to use them, my brain is mush, but Maren is still sharply focused and hanging on every word.
Normally, I’d be taking this call on my own, trying like hell to absorb every word. But not tonight. Tonight I have someone just as eager to listen and understand as I am at my side. And I appreciate that just as much as I appreciate not eating dinner alone.
Heidi is launching into an explanation of her plans for the computer, when Quinn knocks on the door. I beckon him in through the glass, asking Heidi to hang on just a second.
“I just want to make sure Zara’s allowed to have brownies.” Quinn grins. “She’s real fucking convincing, and I don’t want to get my ass kicked right out of the gate.”
“Brownies, plural?” Maren groans. “I didn’t even think about her trying to butter you up for extra brownies.” She turns to me. “I’ll be right back.”
Quinn follows her down the hall as Maren goes to start a negotiation with a five-year-old.
“Is Maren gone?” Heidi whispers through the line.
I switch off the speaker and put the phone to my ear, stepping away from the open door. “She is.”
“I don’t know her super well, so I wasn’t sure how delicate information would be delivered best.” Heidi sounds abnormally cautious.
“What sort of delicate information?” Heidi is always brash and blunt, and her hesitancy doesn’t sit right in my gut. “Is it about the men who broke into her trailer?”
“No.”
I wait for Heidi to say more—she always does. Not this time, apparently. The other end of the line remains silent, forcing me to prompt her. “What is it about?”
“Her mother.” Another short, strangely hesitant answer.
Followed by another unusual silence.
“Do you think her mother was part of this?” It’s still one of the possibilities—far-fetched as it is—I’ve been considering.
Maybe her mother’s dealers leveled up. Technology is always advancing, and people who want money always figure out a way to get it.
It isn’t completely out of the realm of possibility that the camera was planted by someone looking to rob Maren.
It could be exactly what we initially believed it was. Thugs who wanted to settle a debt.
It doesn’t explain the laptop, but who knows why people do what they do? Maybe they believed it was a personal computer and they’d be able to get Maren’s stored passwords somehow.
I’m still clinging to that possibility as I wait for Heidi’s answer. Hoping with everything I have that we can put all this behind us. That I overreacted by bringing Quinn here, and I don’t have to fear for Maren and Zara’s safety.
But then Heidi pulls the rug right out from under me.
“Her mother couldn’t have been involved in this, because she died six months ago.”
Fuck.
I rake a hand through my hair as I begin to pace. “Are you sure?”
“Positive.” Heidi still sounds cautious when she asks, “Are you going to tell her?”
“I have to.” Maren deserves to know. Not just because of what it means for this investigation, but also because it might provide some sort of closure for her.
After promising to find everything she can about Maren’s mother, Heidi hangs up, leaving me alone with the dread chewing through my gut.
I had plenty of expectations for tonight. Hoped maybe I could lure Maren into my bed after everyone else went to sleep. Instead, I get to tell her the mother who made her life a living hell is dead, and I’m essentially responsible for the break-in at her home.
Fucking great.