He jerked away from her. “Don’t tell me to breathe. He had no right—”
“I know,” Maggie said. “I know. But you can’t go around touching people’s bikes. You know better.”
“I wasn’t gonna steal it,” Nox snapped. “I was just sitting on it.”
“And that gets you dragged in here by your neck,” Maggie said. “So maybe just look next time.”
Nox glared at her, but he didn’t argue. He just stood there, his chest heaving, his eyes wet with unshed tears.
Kat’s eyes followed Tank out of the room, and that was when she spotted me.
Her gaze locked on mine, and everything else fell away.
Frankie followed her mother’s gaze, and her face lit up. “Derek!” She waved and started toward me.
But Kat’s hand shot out, catching her daughter’s arm.
Keeping her from coming near me.
She leaned down and whispered something in Frankie’s ear. I couldn’t hear the words, but I saw Frankie’s smile falter. Saw the confusion in her eyes as she looked back at me.
My chest cracked open.
Kat straightened, her eyes still on mine. There was something in her expression—fear, maybe. Or doubt. Or both.
She knew something had happened.
But does she know what?
And if she does, will she ever let me near Frankie again?
I stood there, frozen, as Kat turned away and guided Frankie toward the food tables.
Away from me.
Always away from me.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Katrina
Of course he would be here. I should have known better. Jack was an officer of the club; he would have Thanksgiving here. His family would be here.
So, Derek would be here.
And now I had to keep Frankie away from him until I’d had a chance to talk to him. Until I knew for certain whether Frankie’s speculation was right, that Derek was the unidentified man who’d saved Hannah and then almost killed Richard.
Maggie agreed with her.
I didn’t want to admit it, but the circumstantial evidence was overwhelming. Everything pointed toward Frankie’s conclusion being right. But why would he do it? We meant nothing to him.
Unless...
I peeked across the room. Derek sat at a table with Jack and Sam, holding one of their twins against his shoulder, rubbing the baby’s back as he talked to his brother. He looked like a natural. A man comfortable with a baby in his arms. A man who belonged there.
My throat tightened.
The baby’s tiny hand curled against Derek’s chest, and something inside me shattered.
