Willard is dirty.A murderer.How dangerous is he?
Should I shout? Run? What should I do?
“I’ll be happy to give you a ride back home,” Willard says evenly, smile widening as he peers through the window at Noah.
“Would you like a ride in a real police car, kiddo?”
Don’t call him kiddo.
“We just rode up on the wheel,” Noah says, blinking, voice innocent, trusting. It twists something in my gut. Noah sees a neighbor, a familiar face.
I see a threat.
What’s the right call? What would Xaden want me to do?
Every cell in my body screams no. Don’t put Noah in his car. Don’t let him have that kind of power. But if I refuse without reason, will he know?
Will he suspect that I know? Then what?
God, I’d never be able to do what Xaden does.
“Daddy, I wanna go home now,” Noah whines, on the edge of tears. I have to move.
I force a smile. My voice shakes, but hopefully Willard doesn’t hear it. “If you can give us a ride, that would be great.”
“Excellent.” Willard smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. That’s nothing new. The man has always despised me. “You’ll be home in no time.” He gestures toward his car. He’s parked in a disabled spot — of course. What a jerk.
I unbuckle Noah, gather him and his balloon, and circle toward the sheriff’s vehicle.
The fair’s lights spin behind us, blurring.
The air smells of sugar, but underneath it, something sour. Willard hums like this is just a neighborly favor.
Is it?
Or am I walking straight into a trap?
XADEN
Finally, Keller calls back.
“They were spotted at the fair,” he says. My grip on the burner tightens so hard the plastic creaks.
“And?”
“Willard’s with them.” It’s like someone pours gasoline into my veins.My pulse spikes, not fast.Violent.
“We have an agent on site, Bailey. You stay put, hear me?”Stay put? Like hell.My mind’s already running the angles. The fairground’s only two miles away if I cut down by the old mill road. I could be there in four minutes, five tops. But what would I be walking into? Willard’s smart, he’d make it look friendly, even if it wasn’t.
If I storm in fists first, I’d blow the cover for good. Still, the image burns in my head: Cole, standing too still, smiling uncertainly. Noah clutching his hand. Willard leaning in, that smug shadow of a smile.
I know that smile. It’s the same one he wore when he lied to my face after Dad died. I can see Cole forcing himself not to flinch, trying to be polite, trying not to show fear.
The last time Willard got this close to someone I loved, I was too young to do anything about it. I couldn’t stop him. I didn’t know enough, wasn’t strong enough.
Now I am.
My free hand curls into a fist. “If he lays one finger on them, he’s dead.”
