Watching everything. They had access to her. To us. That makes me want to put a bullet in someone’s skull. But I can’t. Not yet.
So I have to wait—wait for the lab to analyze the camera, wait to find out how much they could see, where the signal was sent, and who the hell has been watching my daughter. I feel fucking sick. Angry. Not just that, I’m fucking terrified.
But the part that keeps me awake, the part that boils under my skin like poison, isn’t just what they did to Maddie. It’s what they’re doing to Nysa.
They know her schedule. They know when she’s alone, when she goes home, when she’s most vulnerable. And what’s worse? They knew how to scare her.
They didn’t just follow her, they made her believe Maddie was in danger. They know how much she cares. How much she loves my daughter. Which would be something sweet to learn some other time.
“What now?” I ask Malerick after his people leave.
There are still security guards around the house, but at least it’s not the circus of agents we had when he first arrived. This though makes no sense. He said everyone was gone, didn’t he? Who are these people?
Mal crosses his arms, his jaw tight, his eyes scanning the darkened yard like he expects someone to step out of the shadows.
“Let’s go inside,” he says.
I don’t move. I have to know before I do: “Is Mrs. Harper safe?”
He nods. “She has a security detail now and will be staying at a friend’s house. Tomorrow, they’re installing a full security system so Nysa can go back with her.”
I exhale, rubbing a hand over my stubbled jaw. But I don’t like the idea of Nysa leaving this place. Nope. I’ll take care of my girls. Me, no one else. But then again, I don’t know if it’s safe for anyone to change the plan now. The plan that is clearly not working.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
I grip the back of my neck, my fingers digging into my skin. “This isn’t enough, Mal.”
His jaw tics. “I know.”
I let out a humorless laugh, sharp and bitter. “Do you? Because you weren’t expecting that stuffed animal shit, or the camera recording us.”
I step inside the house, the air thick with tension, my body still vibrating with frustration and rage. Mal follows, shutting the door behind him. Nysa is already upstairs with Maddie. I let her hold her, even when it was killing me to let her go. But I know that she’s safe with Nysa. She would give her life for my child.
Still, I feel caged, like I can’t sit, like I can’t do anything without breaking something first.
“If I could,” I say, my voice rough, “I’d go hunt these fuckers down myself.”
Mal exhales sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. “I know.”
“No,” I snap, turning to him, my chest tight. “You don’t. That’s my child they put in danger. My . . . fuck.” I sigh with frustration because I can’t say my Nysa.
Since when did she become mine? It wasn’t supposed to happen like that, or at all. But it did. I know how much I feel for her. How much I want her and how much . . . fuck.
His gaze darkens. “Yes, I do. Even when you might not believe me, I do care about your daughter. I do love my niece. You’re my brother, asshole. I fucking care about my family.”
I stare at him, at the unshakable certainty in his voice, and I realize . . . he means it. He’s just as pissed off as I am.
“Though I want to hunt them, I have to stay in place and just ask you to trust the process,” he says.
We’re both tied down by this investigation, by the bureaucracy of it all, by the fact that we can’t just go out and kill whoever did this. Not yet.
I rake a hand through my hair, pacing the length of the kitchen.
“I need you to tell me something.”
