One shaky hand on the wheel, the other on his phone, he swept open the screen and clicked Trinity’s name. She answered on the first ring. “Kingston?”
“Where are you?” He managed to squeeze outhoarsely.
“What’swrong?”
“Where are you?” He repeated, his brain focused on only one thing—keeping his family safe. He could ease Trinity’s fearslater.
“I’m at home, with Hope. We’re making some cheese dip, getting ready for the game. The Hogs are playing theBulldogs.”
Half shaking with relief that she was okay, and half dreading that she might not be by the time he got there, King accelerated. “Lock the doors, get Hope, and go to the safeplace.”
As soon as he bought the house, he’d gone through escape plans and what to do in case of an emergency with Trinity. She had indulged him, never really worried about theirsafety.
“Stay inside. Lock the doors. And get away from the windows. I’m on myway.”
“What’s going on?” Her voice dropped to barely awhisper.
“Can’t explain now. Just do it. For me baby. I loveyou.”
He could practically see Trinity’s spine straightening. She wasn’t any kind of wilting willow. And that thread of steel came through in her voice when she replied, “I’ve got it. I loveyou.”
As much as he wanted to stay on the phone and hear every single breath they took, King knew he had to disconnect and get there. He hung up, held onto the steering wheel with a white-knuckled grip, and drove. Had he given himselfaway?
Not likely. The Solonik family ties reached far and deep, including into the US, that much he’d found out personally during his undercover op. King had managed to track one lead all the way back to DC, but hadn’t had enough time to fish out the traitor. Maybe their captain had managed to narrow the possibilities…King would interrogate each one of thempersonally.
He made it home in record time, grabbed his firearm, and bolted to their bright red frontdoor.
Hands shaking like a damn baby, he managed to get the key in the deadbolt and silently unlocked the front door, pistol raised and ready. Fuck. He’d be useless like this. King took a deep breath in, closed his eyes for a split second and blew out the fear threatening to take control of his entirebeing.
With lethal calm, he crept silently into his house, clearing each room one by one. A bowl of warm cheese dip, steam still coming off of it, with a bag of chips sat on the counter in the kitchen. A folded pile of clothes lay on top of the washer and dryer in the connected laundry room. Silently he made his way back to the kitchen, to the living room, past the huge house-divided picture hanging on the wall, the right side with the purple LSU logo, the left side with the red Arkansas logo. The game was just starting on theTV.
Knees bent, every sense on the ready, he crept down the hallway. Hope’s bedroom was first on the left, her pink and white ruffled bedspread laying half on the floor. Closetclear.
The spare bedrooms were next, just across the way, the one room King had not been allowed to touch, and Trinity had gleefully decorated in bold red and white for her favoriteteam.
Last, down on the left, the master bedroom door was shut. He tested the knob, found it unlocked, and slowly entered. His skin tingled and burned, but his blood ran cold in his veins. He hadn’t heard a single sound in thehouse.
Quickly he swept the room and the master closet, finally making his way to the bathroom. Keeping one eye on the bedroom door, he reached for the bathroom knob, found it locked. “Trinity?” He said just loud enough for her to hear through the door. He’d picked that as their safe place, there was a large enough window for her to exit out the back if needed. And they kept an emergency-go bag in the cabinet under thesink.
“Kingston?” Her shaky voice nearly took him to hisknees.
“Unlock the door,baby.”
The lock clicked, the door opened, and she peeked around, her chocolate brown eyes wide withworry.
“Are you okay?” he asked quickly, gun stillready.
“Yes, we’re fine,” came her quick reply. With a groan of release, King holstered his weapon and dragged his wife into his arms, burying his face in her long, dark brown hair, inhaling her sweetscent.
“Daddy!” Hope leapt from the shower and bolted for them, her cheerleader skirt swooshing in bright red waves around her. When she was within reaching distance, she sprang up and King caught her in one arm, resting her light six-year-old frame onto his hip. His heart beating hard and slow, King palmed the back of her dark pigtailed head and pressed a kiss to herforehead.
His throat closed off for a second, while he stood there and held them; thanking God he’d made it intime.
Hope pushed back, not one ounce of awareness or fear on her beautiful bright face. Her mother’s same chocolate brown eyes stared up at him, laughing. “Do you like my new outfit? Mom said we get to go on an adventure this morning. She said you were coming home and taking us to Disney! I made you a picture. I was going to surprise you! You want to seeit?”
He couldn’t help but chuckle at Hope’s rapid-fire questions. “Of course I want to see it, and I love your new outfit, even if it’s the wrong color.” King dropped his head and brushed his nose back and forth across hers. It’d always been his way of greeting her when he got back home fromdeployment.
Hope’s dark eyebrows drew together. “Mommy says I’m only allowed to wear my purple cheerleader uniform when you’re home and when the Tigersplay.”
