1
Acollective gasp rolls through the church when the deranged woman’s weapon of choice is exposed. Thankfully, it isn’t the dangerous arsenal I expected—but it is the reason her Sunday shoes are covered with vibrant red splotches.
Regan stops talking when a dissected pig’s heart rolls across the pristinely clean church foyer. Her eyes lock with mine for several long seconds before they lower to the woman squealing like a banshee. I can tell she is grateful her stalker has been detained, but she is confused as to what it all means.
She’s not the only one lost. Her stalker’s threat was highly graphic, one of the most disturbing I’ve ever seen, so I expected her to be more creative than harassing Regan with a pig’s heart. Her arrest is simple and done without harm to either Regan or herself. It almost seems too easy.
When the lady I have pinned to the ground spews vitriol in Regan’s direction, I scan the muted church for the gentleman I spotted earlier, hoping for some assistance. I can’t keep the assailant contained and comfort Regan at the same time. I also have no jurisdiction in Texas. A local cop needs to arrest her to ensure all the loose ends are adequately tied. The last thing I want is for her to slip prosecution because I failed to follow protocol.
Although I don’t know the man I am seeking any better than the churchgoers staring at me, I’ve lived amongst law enforcement officers my entire life, so I know a cop when I see one. He is one of us; I’m certain of it.
Upon discovering the man I’m hunting tucked in the far corner of the church, I jerk up my chin, wordlessly requesting his assistance. He briskly shakes his head before slumping low in his chair. His endeavor to hide comes too late. Numerous attendees’ eyes followed the direction of my gaze when I nudged my head. His hope to fade into the background was lost the instant he was spotted by a local, because he is one of them as much as he is an officer of the law.
Recognizing his cover has been blown, the blond-haired, brown-eyed man stands to his feet and heads my way. The gasps of the crowd keep coming when he unlatches a set of cuffs from his belt at the end of the aisle.
The reason for their surprise comes to light when Regan mutters, “Ayden? What the hell are you doing?”
Regan’s eyes dart to her father when Ayden kneels down to secure cuffs on the subdued woman. Hayden shrugs at Regan, as confused as every other attendee gawking our way.
Confident he has the woman contained, Ayden helps her stand to her feet. He dips his chin my way, his greeting more to hide his snarl than a formal introduction.
After an apologetic glance directed at Regan, Hayden, and Sally, Ayden guides the assailant down the church aisle. “Danielle Thomas, you are under arrest for breaking and entering a property with the intent to cause grievous bodily harm. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law . . .”
His words soften the farther he guides Danielle through the crowd of people glaring at her with the same disdain they issued Regan only an hour ago. I stop awarding him the same confused stare when Regan’s scent infiltrates my nostril cavities.
“What the hell is happening?” She stops to stand next to me.
“You tell me,” I reply, a little lost. “Do you know that man?” I nudge my head at the man who was reluctant to break his cover for the greater good.
Regan nods. “He’s my baby brother.” The dryness impinging my throat intensifies when her massively dilated eyes stray to mine. “Seems like we aren’t the only ones keeping secrets. As far as my family was aware, Ayden was set to graduate Lennington College next month.”
2
“You okay?” I ask Regan as my backside joins her on the two-seater couch in her family living room.
She halfheartedly nods. “It’s just weird, you know.” She stops cuddling her knees so her head can crank in the direction her family is seated. “I don’t know why he needed to keep his career a secret. We’re his family. If he can’t be honest with us, who can he be honest with?”
Her response surprises me. She’s been quiet since we left the church three hours ago, but I thought her wish for privacy centered around the detailed report local authorities drafted in front of her parents, not her brother’s secret. Regan is confident and forthright, but just like me, she keeps parts of her life hidden from those she cares about. She’s not doing it to be mean; she’s protecting them as I always will her.
Going off a hunch, I say, “Ayden may not have had a choice but to lie.” My last word muffles from Regan smashing a pillow into my face.
After a growl exposes her anger, she leaps from the couch and bolts up the stairs. I understand her annoyance—Danielle arrived at Luca’s memorial with the intent to publicly shame her. I just can’t fathom why all her fury is directed at Ayden. Although his break in cover meant confessing to a yearlong secret, he did that to protect Regan and her family, so she has no right to be angry at him.
Unless. . .
I take the stairs two at a time, barely crossing the threshold of Regan’s bedroom before her door slams shut.
“You’re supposed to be on the other side,” Regan snarls, exposing my intuition is spot on. She’s not mad at Ayden. She’s upset with me.
She stops wearing a hole in the carpet when I grip the top of her arms. She could pull away, but even someone as strong and unbreakable as Regan can’t deny the attraction teeming between us. The rise in her temperature when I grabbed her wasn’t from anger. It is the same reason her pulse is fluttering against my fingertips. She’s mad, but she’s still responsive to my touch.
I wait for my silence to coerce her eyes to mine before asking, “Why are you angry at me? I haven’t done anything wrong.”
Frustrated at my inability to read her every thought, she breaks away from me. Her angry steps move her across the room to her suitcase left open on her bed.
Although grateful she’s packing for our flight that leaves in under two hours, I have no intention of going anywhere until we sort this shit out. Our return to Ravenshoe means facing the biggest battle in our relationship to date. Hayden’s aversion to me getting cozy with his daughter will seem like child’s play when I come clean about mixing business with pleasure to Theresa.
I’m not willing to face that shitstorm without ensuring Regan and I are solid. If we don’t put our best foot forward, our relationship will be squashed before it’s official. That isn’t a probability. It is a certainty.
