That dark smoky figure that lurked on the outer edges of my little girl’s mind. Trish was always there but it was clear from the drawings she’d been uninvolved in raising Zoya, in loving her. Hell, I doubted she even remembered she had a kid most of the time. Eliana hadn’t noticed, probably because she came from a stable and loving home, but I’d seen it all.
Trish was there but oblivious to the way the shadow stretched towards Zoya as if it was threatening to swallow her whole. It didn’t take a fucking psychology degree to know she was terrified of something and someone.
And then that fucking phone call? It could only be Trish, because the bitch traveled on a cloud of chaos. But why was she calling now? Why, after years of silence, was she calling me?
Because she’s a fucking chaos goblin.
I wouldn’t let her fuck up Zoya. Not again.
I eased out from under Eliana, careful not to wake her. She made a soft moaning sound in her sleep and reached for me. For a second, I almost gave in. Almost let myself stay in bed with her and pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist.
But it did exist and it would invade no matter what, which meant I had to be ready.
I grabbed my phone off the nightstand and sat on the edge of the bed to text Slate.
Me: Need a list of anyone who was arrested with Trish since Zoya’s birth. Known associates, dealers, cellmates, johns, anybody. And especially anybody who shared an address with her.
Slate: On it.
His response was short and quick. He didn’t ask questions because he knew I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. I turned to watch Eliana, asleep with a small smile on her face. She was an unexpected treasure in my life. Not only was she slowly, but surely, bringing Zoya out of her shell but she was more than I gave her credit for. She’d seen the connections in what Zoya couldn’t yet say and showed it to me, even when I didn’t want to see it.
She blinked until her eyes opened on my face. A sleepy smile touched her lips. “Morning,” she said sleepily and sat up, noticing my grim expression and stiff posture. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I lied. “Just some shit on my mind and I needed to get Slate to look into it.”
She rubbed her eyes, nodding as she laid a supportive hand on my shoulder. “Zoya’s mom and the smoke man?”
“Yeah,” I sighed. “But I don’t want to talk about her or him, not while I’ve got a gorgeous, naked woman in my bed.”
Her lips curved up, a soft, sleepy smile that wrapped around my heart like a vise. “Gorgeousandnaked? Lucky you.”
“Oh, you have no idea,” I told her as I yanked her close, letting my hands slide up her naked curves. In seconds I was wrapped up in her, everything else around me forgotten. The next few hours passed in a blur of heat and movement, slow and hungry. I took her, hard and slow, my favorite kind of fuck because the sounds she made kept my dick hard. Every stroke she let out these low, strangled sounds that shot straight to my balls.
I sucked her nipples, back and forth, biting until she did that breathless squeal thing that sounded right before she came apart all around my cock. “Damn,” she sighed, her whole body vibrating as my cock emptied into her body. “I’m gonna pass out, I think,” she laughed. Seconds later she drifted off with her head on my chest, her hand resting so close to my cock that neither of us could sleep.
But Eliana slept peacefully and the sounds of her soft, even breathing kept me calm enough to think, since I couldn’t fucking sleep.
When the sun finally rose, I knew I wasn’t going to the clubhouse today. I would stay close for both Zoya and Eliana. They needed me today and it was about fucking time I stepped up.
Zoya and I made pancakes, which gave Eliana time to work on her dissertation. For some reason she chose to work in the kitchen, smiling each time Zoya overfilled the measuring cups.
“It’s okay,” I assured her. “A little extra sugar is just what pancakes need.”
Zoya smiled at me and poured the baking powder into the little spoon more carefully. She worked in slow, deliberatemoves to avoid making mistakes, which tore at my fucking chest. She was terrified of messing up and I had to show her that no matter what she did, I wouldn’t go anywhere.
“You’re a good helper,” I told her. “Wanna pour a pancake?”
She nodded.
“Now if you pour too much, that’s okay. Big pancakes are better than small ones. Right?”
She nodded again, her smile bigger and more comfortable.
I relaxed a little with each smile she gifted me. Guilt twisted in my gut with every smile, though. I should’ve been able to protect her from all this shit. From her own fucking mother. The whole damn world. From whatever nightmares still lived in her mind.
“Okay, Pancake Chef, what are we doing next?” The morning passed in a comfortable quiet while Eliana typed, Zoya drew, and I wrestled with my guilt while I watched them. Eliana was caught up in this because of her connection to me and Zoya was in this because I failed to protect her.
The landline rang again and I knew it was no fucking coincidence. The hairs on the back of my neck shot straight up as the phone continued to ring until I got to my feet to pick it up. “Yeah,” I growled angrily.
