“Because he’s Breed, right?”
She nodded, struck by how easily the boy had accepted Asher as a part of their makeshift tribe. Seeing everyone together at Michael’s house had given her a glimpse of what a true family felt like. Her family—the one she hadn’t been born into, but wanted desperately to have for the rest of her life.
She stroked her hand over the little boy’s head. “Buckle in, okay? Let’s get you home now.”
As discreetly as she could, she tried Michael’s number again as she got settled behind the wheel. No luck.
Dammit, where was he?
She took another second to check in with Asher, careful to keep the concern out of her voice so that Tyler didn’t detect the panic that was beginning to slither through her veins. But Asher knew. His voice was gentle and reassuring, telling her he’d checked the news for reports of accidents and traffic problems, but found no cause for worry.
“Thanks,” she murmured. “I’ll call you when I get to the house.”
For the duration of the drive to the other side of town, she kept Tyler occupied with questions about school and homework and what he might want for dinner. They fell into a familiar, easy chatter until they rounded the corner onto the street leading to Michael’s house.
And then Naomi’s heart clenched behind her sternum.
Michael’s van was parked in the driveway. Which on any other day might seem normal, but at this moment felt very, very wrong.
“What the heck?” Tyler blurted, sending her a confused look. “You mean he’s been home the whole time?”
“I don’t know, honey.” Naomi parked beside the vehicle, unable to shake the bone-deep chill that was spreading over her. “Why don’t you stay out here and let me go talk to him first, okay?”
To her relief, the boy didn’t argue. Naomi climbed out of the truck and let the rusted door close behind her with a groan.
As she entered through the unlocked front door, she dimly remembered that she had promised to call Asher when she arrived. But her feet were moving of their own accord, carrying her inside the quiet house. God, it was too quiet by far.
“Hello? Michael? Anyone home?”
It wasn’t unusual for the kids to be scattered and off doing their own thing during the day. There was school for some, while others were either too young or too rebellious to attend with the kind of regularity they needed. Part of the deal with the kids who filtered in and out of their house was that they stayed only because they wanted to. To most that meant having someplace to go when night fell or when the desert got too cold, or too hot, to survive long outside. Letting them have their freedom was part of that equation, no matter how hard it was for Michael and her to adhere to the agreement sometimes.
Right now, Naomi couldn’t think of anything she wanted more than to hear a herd of young teens and other kids come tearing through the house, preferably with Michael rolling right behind them, or summoning them all into the kitchen for a meal.
Anything but the tomblike quiet that surrounded her as she stepped farther inside.
“Michael?”
She drifted toward the bedroom at the end of the hallway. The door was partially open—only wide enough for her to see his empty wheelchair just inside.
“Michael . . .”
Her steps slowed as she approached, her mind reluctant to process what every instinct in her body was trying to tell her. Something bad had happened. Something horrific.
She entered the room and glanced toward the floor next to his bed. His legs were sticking out at an odd angle as if he’d fallen out of his chair and into the open closet. Then she saw his blue, lifeless face . . . and the taut leather belt fastened tightly around his neck.
Her heart plummeted.
No. Oh God, no.
She stumbled back a step.
And she screamed.
CHAPTER 20
The idle waiting and wondering had been driving him insane, so in a fit of activity Asher had installed his new headboard in the master bedroom. It wasn’t ever going to be finished to his liking, and since he needed something to do with his hands, he’d impulsively decided to put the damned thing to use.
He had just stepped back to look at the hand-carved piece when an invisible blade plunged into his chest. He staggered back on his heels, bewildered for a moment, uncertain where the attack had come from.
