“Maggie,” I whisper, and sit up fast enough for my stomach to protest, but I don’t give a fuck. I need?—
“She’s right here.” Duffy’s voice comes from my left where... There’s another bed there. It wasn’t there before, he—fucking hell, he moved in?
And he’s not holding Maggie’s sleeping form, a woman is.
Same dark hair as Duffy, and when she looks up right into my eyes, I know they have to be related somehow. Those are the same green eyes, but the shape and color are the only things they share. Behind the woman’s eyes there’s none of thatemotionthat brims in Duffy’s.
It’s blank, just completely blank.
“You were there,” I whisper, not able to take my eyes away from her. I know when to listen to my damn survival instincts, and everything inside me is screaming to be careful, to grab Maggie and run. Logic doesn’t matter right now—not the fact that she’s part of the group of people who saved me, or that she’s cuddling my sleeping baby girl like she’s a precious piece of crystal.
“I was.” I remember her voice, and there’s no doubt in my mind she’s some kind of psycho—the clinical kind.
“Can I please hold her?”
It’s a humbling thing, to have to ask to hold my own daughter, but I know it’s the only way. I doubt I could fight her off, not only because I’m beat to hell but because she could probably take me with a hand tied behind her back and without breaking a sweat.
The woman smiles, and to her credit, I can tell it’s genuine. Problem is, that smile is pretty terrifying.
“Of course,” she murmurs, and stands from Duffy’s bed then expertly passes Maggie over to me without waking her up.
Like I thought about doing earlier—or was it a day ago? Oh, who gives a damn what day it is. I count every single one of her fingers and leave the toes for later since she looks super cozy in yet another onesie I didn’t buy for her.
“We took good care of her,” the woman says, almost defensively. I don’t dare look up.
“I can tell,” I say simply.
“Colby, this is my sister, Aurora, but we call her Rory to make other people believe she’s sweet and kind.”
I guess finally having Maggie in my arms turns me into abrave imbecile, that’s the only explanation for my next words.
“I guess the crazy runs in the family, huh?”
I’m so startled by my own words I do look up then, into two blank gazes. They break out in laughter after a long moment. Nothing huge, they’re only chuckling, but still, the relief... it’s the size of Alaska.
“Sorry,” I mumble.
“It’s fine,” Rory says, waving a hand around carelessly. “I like to go with psychopath if you feel a need for labels, and this one is just too stupid for his own good.”
“Hey,” Duffy protests when she points her thumb at him.
“It’s nice that you’ve got each other,” I tell them, then go back to look at Maggie. If the words sound a bit too... honest, well then, who gives a fuck anyway?
“That they do.” A new voice comes from the doorway. A tall man with ginger hair that’s being taken over by gray, and an amused half smile aimed right at Duffy.
“Colby, this is Mac, my partner.”
“Oh, I... didn’t know the mob did that,” I say stupidly.
“Did what?” Duffy asks, and the tilt of his head and curious expression reminds me of the black lab I had when I was a kid.
“He thinks you meant romantic partners,” Rory tells Duffy, and leaves themoronimplied by her tone unsaid.
“Oh, no.” Duffy snorts. “We’re like, work partners.”
Mac snickers at that and walks over to kiss Duffy on the forehead. I can’t help how high my eyebrows move up at that.
“But they aren’t straight either,” Rory chimes in. “That is a thing in the mob, by the way. Nowadays at least.” She mutters the last part, and now I’m even more curious.
