Silence.
I counted my heartbeats. Ten. Fifteen. Twenty.
Movement inside. A floorboard creaked. But no one answered.
My hand was halfway up to knock again when I heard the chain slide free. Cold sweat prickled at my temples. The lock clicked.
The door swung inward.
A hand clamped over my mouth before I could scream. Another fist grabbed my coat and yanked me forward so hard my shoulder wrenched. My boot scraped the doorframe as I clawed at the hand on my face, but he was already dragging me backward into the dark room.
CHAPTER 5
TRENT
The knock draggedme out of a dead sleep.
I was off the bed before I was fully awake, hand already reaching for the Glock on the nightstand. Three sharp raps. Deliberate. Not housekeeping.
My heart hammered as I crossed to the door in bare feet, my jeans unbuttoned. I’d only collapsed onto the bed an hour ago, and my brain felt fuzzy, my movements sluggish.
I checked the peephole.
Evelyn.
She stood on the walkway outside room seven, jaw set, shoulders squared like she was bracing for a fight. My chest tightened at the sight of her. Six months, and she was still the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen—and the most dangerous to my peace of mind.
What the hell was she doing here?
I scrubbed a hand over my face, feeling the stubble I hadn’t bothered to shave. This wasn’t how I’d planned our reunion. I’d intended to observe from a distance, assess the threat level, thenmake contact on my terms. Not get caught sleeping in a motel room with surveillance gear spread across every surface.
She raised her hand to knock again.
I flipped the chain free and turned the lock, already knowing this conversation was going to go badly. Then I yanked the door open and pulled her inside before anyone walking past could see us together.
Evelyn fought my hold as I yanked her into the room. Not a surprise. She’d always been a fighter at heart. I kicked the door shut in one fluid motion, securing the lock with my free hand before releasing her.
Six months since I’d seen her up close, and now here she was, her familiar scent filling the cramped space between us, invading my senses. Her pulse hammered visibly at her throat, eyes wide with fear that quickly narrowed into recognition, then pure, undiluted fury. The fury was worse. Fear, I knew how to handle.
“What the hell, Trent?” She jerked away from me, putting six inches between us in the small room. Not enough. Her breathing came fast and shallow, her shoulders rising with each inhale.
“Sorry.” I stepped back, giving her space. “Couldn’t risk being seen together outside.”
The motel room told the story of my real purpose here—surveillance gear scattered across the table, my duffel open on the floor, weapons visible inside. Not exactly a social visit.
Evelyn’s gaze swept over everything, taking it all in with the hyperawareness I remembered. Nothing got past her. Never had.
“You’re watching us.” Not a question. Her voice dropped, dangerously quiet. “Six months of silence, and now you’re spying on me? On my daughter?”
“Not spying. Protecting.” The distinction mattered to me, even if it didn’t to her. “Something’s happening in this town, Evelyn. Something bad.”
Her fist shot out, connecting with my bare chest. Not hard enough to hurt, just enough to make a point. “Don’t you dare.” Another shove. “Don’t you dare show up now and pretend you’ve been protecting us. Where were you when Sophia cried for you every night for weeks? Where were you when I thought I saw Langston at the bar and grill and had to sleep in the car with a knife under my seat?”
Each question landed like a punch. She was right, and we both knew it.
“I should have checked in.” My voice came out rougher than I intended. “I made a mistake.”
“A mistake?” Her laugh held no humor. “You dropped us in this town, promised you’d make sure we were safe, and then what? Just forgot about us? Found something more important to do?”
