Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Victoria glanced at the time on her cell phone, then verified the time was correct with the clock on the wall in the lobby at Life Center. Nearly thirty minutes since Cillian had called, telling her to wait there with Sydney until he arrived. He’d said he would explain when he saw her.
Victoria would have asked questions, but the tension and urgency in his voice had given her enough of a reason to wait. Something was wrong. Very wrong, judging from the edge of anger and that protectiveness she’d come to recognize.
Was he in trouble? Had something happened since he’d phoned? Thirty minutes seemed a long time for him to take to get there, given the apparent serious nature of whatever had occurred.
She drew in a breath, trying to relax her tense muscles. Obsessing over the questions when she had no answers would do her no good. And neither would sitting in the uncomfortable chair that was doing her posture no favors.
She rose and walked across the empty room, her gaze dropping to her phone as she paused near the potted fern in the corner. Her thumb moved to the text messaging app and tapped. As if she needed another obsession to replace the first.
But no new messages awaited her. She opened the thread of texts with her father.
I plan to arrive at 6:00 Tuesday night to prepare your birthday dinner. Does that sound correct, or would you like me there earlier?
The text she had sent yesterday morning stared up at her. With no response.
Dad never waited that long to answer a text. Not a word since her arrest meant one thing—he was giving her the silent treatment. Far worse than an in-person lecture. He must be so disappointed in her, so ashamed.
She pressed her lips together and looked up, her gaze hitting the poster on the wall with the large image of a six-week-old baby in the womb. The baby was so dependent on her mother, on her parents for safety, love, and life itself.
Strange how that dynamic seemed to continue throughout all stages, taking on different forms and degrees as the children and parents aged.
“Is he here yet?”
Victoria turned toward Sydney as the girl returned from visiting the restroom. “No, not yet.” She glanced toward the front door.
Nothing but the gray light of the winter day greeted her study beyond the glass.
“Oh. My man is usually late, too.” The girl smiled as she plunked herself down into a chair. “Doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you.”
Dismay tightened Victoria’s stomach, but her pulse skipped with something like pleasure at the same time.
“Cillian doesn’t—” Could she honestly say he didn’t love her?
He’d told her he did when they were teenagers.
And he showed signs that, perhaps, he still did. She tried again. “Cillian isn’t my—”
“Isn’t your what?”
Cillian.
She whirled toward his deep voice, catching sight of his handsome grin as he let the door close, finally triggering the bell that signaled entry. Heat flushed her face. But she lifted her chin and met those coal-black eyes. “It’s about time you arrived. We’ve been waiting for over thirty minutes.”
“Yeah, I had a few errands to run.” He walked toward her and Sydney. Or rather, limped.
The irregularity appeared to be originating from his right hip. “What happened?” She lowered her gaze farther down.
His right pant leg was tattered and ripped, exposing bloodied skin on his thigh and knee.
“Cillian?” Alarm pinched her chest. “Are you all right?”
“If I say ‘no,’ will you give me free PT?” He winked.
She gave his arm a swat.
“Ouch.” He rubbed the arm as if that was the worst injury he’d received.
“If you don’t tell me what happened in the next two seconds, I’m going to go straight home with Sydney like I should have done a half hour ago.”
“Okay.” He glanced around the empty lobby.
Victoria followed his scan. “Everyone’s in the back at another prenatal class like the one Sydney just attended.”
“Yeah, they hold them at different times so there’s room for everybody.” Sydney looked Cillian up and down. “Did somebody beat you up?”
“Yeah, you should see the other guy.” He gave her a half-hearted grin, then landed his focus on Victoria. “Somebody sabotaged my bike.”
“Your motorcycle?” She sucked in a quick breath. “Did you crash?”
“Pretty much. He loosened the bolts just enough so the tire would come off after riding for a while.”
“Who would do that?” Sydney’s question barely reached Victoria’s ears as she stared at Cillian, her heart pounding.
He could’ve been killed. Cillian could have died. Because of her and this quest to prove her innocence.
“That’s enough.”
Cillian’s eyebrows lowered. “What?”
“I said that’s enough. We have to stop.” Victoria folded her arms across her sweater. “We need to stop investigating and trying to find the killer. This has become far too dangerous.”
“Vicks, it’s okay.” He stepped closer to her and rested his hand on her arm.
She pulled away, lifting her hands in the air. “No, it is most certainly not okay, Cillian. You were almost killed. I cannot be responsible for you getting hurt.”
“You aren’t responsible for this, Vicks. Thomas’s killer is. And this is great. It means we’re on the right track. We’re getting really close, and—”
“Cillian, no.” Exasperation pinched her tone, but she couldn’t help it. He was the most maddening man she’d ever known. “This isn’t some thrill-seeking adventure where only you are involved. You need to think, to consider how your actions will affect others.”
“That’s why I told you to wait for me, and I came here as soon as I showed the lieutenant our evidence against Glenn. He finally listened, by the way. He might actually follow up this time or make McCully do it.”
“Cillian, you aren’t listening.”
“I am listening. I’m going to make sure you’re safe until this guy is locked up, so you don’t have to worry about a thing.”
“Not worry? When you walk in here looking like you’ve been hit by a truck? When I might never have seen you—” Emotion choked the words. She turned away, blinking hard to banish the tears that suddenly sprang to her eyes.
“Vicks.” Warm pressure touched her shoulder, his large hand comforting and strong. His masculine scent mingled with cologne wrapped around her, luring her to turn into him and lose herself in his arms.
Oh, Lord, I can’t love him. I can’t. Please help me. He doesn’t believe in You. He was never right for me, regardless, or for my family.
“I’m okay, really.” Cillian’s voice was thick and deeper than normal.
She closed her eyes. She’d given too much away. Given him hope she never should have.
She stiffened her spine and took a step forward, slipping out from under his hand as she swiveled toward him. She pressed her lips together and met his gaze.
His dark irises gleamed, simmering with intensity and passion she somehow had to ignore.
“This is exactly why we shouldn’t be involved in police investigations.
They’re equipped to handle danger, and murderers aren’t going to attack them to keep them silent.
From now on, we leave this to the professionals.
” She walked around him and went to the coat rack near the door.
She snatched her coat and Sydney’s, turning with the girl’s outstretched for her to take.
Sydney hurried over, her widened eyes as she took her coat giving Victoria a guilty twinge. The teen experienced enough drama at home. Victoria and Cillian didn’t need to be another example of adults arguing.
Victoria reached for her calm and normal tone as she threw a glance at him. “I assume you must have taken a rideshare or taxi here. If you would like a lift to your—wherever you’re living right now—I would be willing to drive you.”
“Very kind of you.” His sarcastic tone sparked her defenses.
She faced him head-on, letting her silence speak for her. She’d made her decision about the investigating. They were done.
“But I’ll take a ride to your house.” His mouth twitched at the corner. He was amused?
Well, that was a better reaction than anger in front of Sydney.
Victoria swallowed her pride and tried to keep a pleasant inflection as she responded. “My house?”
“I promised to keep you safe.” He suddenly closed the distance between them and grabbed her coat from her hands.
“That’s what I’m going to do.” His firm tone matched the hard glint in his eyes as he opened the coat and held it up, apparently intending to assist her like a gentleman. Whether she wanted him to or not.
Heaven help her, but her cartwheeling, foolish pulse said she did want him to. Far too much.
Amusement tugged at Cillian’s mouth as he rode in the front passenger seat of Victoria’s Honda.
She sat ramrod straight behind the wheel, keeping her eyes on the road while she drove. She hadn’t looked his way once or said a word since they’d left the pregnancy center.
She obviously thought she’d won that argument, but judging from her defensive demeanor, she knew her supposed win was shaky.
Weird not driving. The last time Cillian had been a passenger in a vehicle was in a taxi in Seattle. He hadn’t liked it then either.
At least Victoria was a decent driver. Too cautious but smooth, as long as nothing happened to throw her off. Kind of the way she handled life.
“New plan.”
Her fingers clenched the wheel at the sound of his voice. Yep. She’d been waiting for him to challenge her again.
“Since Clinton Glenn has decided to play rough, we have to beat him at his own game.”
“You want to…” she shot a glance at the rearview mirror, probably checking on Sydney, then lowered her voice, “…sabotage his vehicle?”
Cillian chuckled. “Not a bad idea, but no. I think we should sit on him, follow him everywhere he goes so there’s no opportunity for him to try to attack us or kill us.”
Victoria looked at the mirror again.
“She’s fine.” He twisted to see Sydney in the back seat.
The girl stared at her smartphone as she had been doing since they’d gotten in the car.
“Still busy with her phone.”