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Michael looked at his watch. “I have about two hours left until I have to be home and opening presents. Nikki will literally lose her shit if I’m not there.”
“Then we best get this done in an hour, just to be sure. Wouldn’t want your woman pissed at you for no reason,” Luke drawled.
I stood up, too.
Carolina tugged on my hand, and I looked down into her eyes.
“I’m going to go ahead to Mom’s,” she said, eyes soft. “Come over when you’re done?”
She knew me so well.
She didn’t complain about me going. Just wanted to make sure I could find her when I was done.
That was my girl.
“Yes,” I said softly. “I’ll hitch a ride with your dad.”
She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my mouth.
“Good luck, Saint.”
Then she was gone, walking out of Luke’s office like she’d done it a hundred times before.
“Ready?” Bruno asked, strapping on a gun.
I nodded once. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
• • •
I wasn’t expecting a person to be in the room when we got the manager of the hotel to allow us entrance to the hotel room.
But there she was, standing there in a black silk nightie and nothing else.
I blinked, stunned, when I saw who I saw.
“Mother?” I asked, voice raw with untold emotion.
• • •An hour later“Why’d you do it?” I rasped.
I was still stunned. How could she have done this? To me? To Dad?
“Do you know what it’s like to be the perfect woman?” she asked. “Do you know what it’s like to have to deal with the media, day in and day out? To have them constantly criticize what I wear, who I talk to, what I do during the day? I don’t want that anymore!”
I blinked.
“Of course, I know that,” I said. “I was a part of that. But you want to know what I did when I didn’t like it? I left! I didn’t stage a murder and shoot my husband!”
My mother curled her lip up at me in disgust. “You’re the reason that I had to do this.”
I’d had enough.
My mother had just spent the last hour of my life spinning bullshit, and I was done.
“She’s all yours,” I said. “I’m done.”
That’s when I nearly ran straight into Brad.
He grinned huge at me.
“You’re good at this,” he said. “If you ever want to be in the secret service…”
I had no idea whether he meant the interrogation of my mother, the rescue of Carolina, or just the general me being me. Whatever he meant, I wanted no part of it. Even if he was being serious.
I scoffed. “You wouldn’t let me, anyway. When Dad wins reelection…”
“Your dad’s taken himself out of the running,” Brad said as he glanced at the woman handcuffed to the table in the interrogation room. “That’s what they were discussing when this all went down at the cabin. Him bowing out. I’m not sure how the next twenty minutes went, though. One second, I’m okay, and the next I’m disoriented and in the middle of the woods. When I came to, I went back to the cabin, and that’s when I saw all the police cars. They were pulling a body bag out that supposedly held your mother, though fuckin’ nobody thought to check, and I was left with a lot of fucking questions.”
I turned to my mother.
“Who did you kill?” I asked.
She sneered. “I didn’t kill anyone. Juris procured a body from the morgue that’d been killed that day in a car accident. Though, it was tough keeping her warm. We used the hot tub. Closed her in there for a while until we needed her.”
Until we needed her.
There she was talking about a body, somebody’s family member, as if she didn’t do something highly illegal.
“I don’t even know what to say,” I admitted.
“You could find me a lawyer,” Mom suggested.
Or, I could leave and never come back. That sounded even better.
I looked at Brad. “You have fun with that. I have breakfast and presents to open up.”
Brad grunted. “Don’t forget that your father’s awake.”
I grimaced.
My father and I weren’t the best of friends. Hell, we barely knew each other.
But he was right.
My dad needed a visit.
Even if I didn’t want to do that visiting.
Maybe tomorrow.
Today was for my girl.CHAPTER 19Let’s all take a moment to recognize the true hero of Christmas—Elastic waistbands.-Caro to SaintCAROLINA“I’ve never seen you like this before.”
I looked over at my father who was busy drinking a beer.
At eight fifty-four in the morning.
I guess having his daughter held hostage by a crazed man meant that he deserved the beer.
Then again, it was Christmas and we got to do things on Christmas that we wouldn’t normally do any other time.
“You’ve never seen me antsy?” I asked curiously.
“Seen you pacing the halls waiting for some boy that doesn’t deserve you,” he countered.
