“If my mom thinks you suck, it’s because she’s a snob. Anyone in their right mind can see you’re amazing.”
Riley bit her lip and took her time with the last bandage. “Does this mean you’re not still mad at me?”
“Oh, I’m still fucking furious,” he assured her, but he tipped her chin up to look at him when he said it. There was a lot going on behind those stormy hazel eyes, and she wished she could read him right now.
“I wasn’t trying to put anyone in danger,” she said. “I was trying to do the exact opposite.”
“From now on, Thorn, leave the keeping-people-safe thing to me.”
“Are you sure it’s me and not Sesame you’re trying to save?”
“Why can’t it be both?” Nick asked.
20
12:27 a.m., Sunday, October 27
Nick lay on his back in bed. Riley slept fitfully next to him. She’d rolled over, muttering in her sleep half a dozen times since he’d come upstairs. Burt grumbled in his extra-large dog bed.
He tucked his hands under his head as he stared up at the bedroom ceiling. It was stained from old water damage and needed a fresh coat of paint, which was an item on his To-Do list.
When this was behind them, he’d have the time and energy to tackle it. They’d bought this place in the thick of the reignited search for Beth. Every waking moment had been spent looking for her.
Now that she was found, he still needed to see it through. Needed to officially close the book. But he couldn’t do that as long as the people responsible were still out there.
Kellen’s text from earlier rattled around in his brain.
Kellen: It took a bottle and a half of wine, but she said she’ll be ready to talk in the morning.
Nick wanted to be there when he questioned Sesame. This wasn’t just family business. It never had been.
Riley sat bolt upright next to him, scaring the shit out of him. “The window!” she shrieked.
Naked, Nick vaulted out of bed and grabbed his gun from the nightstand. Burt jumped out of his bed with a questioning bark. Together, man and dog hustled across the room to the heavy drapes that covered the windows. With the gun trained in front of him, Nick gave a hard yank. Rather than opening smoothly, the curtain rod ripped off its mounting and fell to the floor.
Finding no one on the other side of the glass, he looked over his shoulder at Riley. Her eyes were wide and unseeing, but her nose was twitching.
“Thorn! What do you see?”
“He came in the window. He’s in her room,” she squeaked.
Nick dove onto the bed and cupped Riley’s face in his hand. “Who?”
Her eyes cleared, and she started blinking until she focused in on him. “The guy from today. I think I saw him climb in Sesame’s window at Kellen’s. At least I think I did. Maybe it was just a dream?”
“Now, or are you seeing the future?”
She held the covers in a death grip. “I don’t know. I can’t tell. Everything is still a little jumbled.”
Nick swore. He dropped the gun onto the mattress and wrestled his way into jeans commando with one hand while dialing Kellen’s number with the other.
“I’m coming with you,” Riley said stubbornly.
The call went to voice mail.
“Damn it. Fine. But I’m leaving now,” he said, stuffing the gun into the back of his jeans.
“I’m ready.” She grabbed a pair of those fuzzy boots all women seemed to wear as soon as pumpkin spice hit the coffee shops.
