This was all her fault.
"Her name," Daryl ground out between his teeth, "is Seaton. I don't need to call her anything else."
The weighty sigh on the other side of the call felt like it was on his shoulders.
"We talked about this, Daryl. You need to distance yourself. If you break the TRO-"
"Hayes," he huffed out a breath as he leaned to one side and looked through her window, "don't worry about that. I'm not going to do anything wrong. I just need some information."
The silence on the other end of the call was deafening.
"I just need to know where she's working."
"Mister Buchanan."
Daryl heard the other man's tone.
He heard the warning.
But he didn't care.
He'd gotten a warning from the judge, but the judge didn't understand get it.
The judge didn't understand that once he got Seaton back in his house, things would be just fine.
She'd buckle under.
She'd listen to him.
They'd be back to normal.
He looked around at the street, glaring at every stupid cookie cutter house.
He was a man built for grand things.
He just needed a woman who'd do what he wanted.
And Seaton?
He'd have her back home.
Sooner rather than later.
Smiling, he reached into his pocket for his keys and his eyes narrowed when his fingertips hit something round instead of pointed.
Lifting it out of his pocket, he knew in an instant what it was.
He pulled it out of his pocket and smiled.
His father's lighter.
Engraved with his father's initials which were also his.
DB
Intricate filigree curled around the letters and gave it an elegant look.
Seaton would know it in an instant.
