“Yeah, everything is fine,” I answer. “How are you? Are you doing okay?”
There’s a long pause, and I almost think he’s not going to answer, but then he exhales deeply into the phone.
“Better now that I’m talking to you.”
Ditto.My heart flips inside my chest at his words.
I dig my teeth into my bottom lip as I mull over whether I should ask him what I want to know, but eventually, I decide to just do it. “What happened tonight? With the case?”
“Ohhh, I see how it is,” he replies, and his voice lightens with a teasing lilt that makes me smile. “You’re just calling me to talk shop.”
“Were you hoping I was calling you for something else?”
“I don’t know, it would’ve been nice if you were calling to say hello or to tell me you missed me or something.”
I snort. “I just saw you, like, four hours ago.”
“And your point?”
His words are lighthearted, but there’s a warmth beneath them that settles deep in my bones. He doesn’t just make me laugh—he makes me feel seen. Wanted.
“Dom,” I say through a laugh, my cheeks flushing as a smile tugs at my lips. “What happened? Did you find anything out?”
“You know I’m not supposed to tell you or anyone details about an ongoing investigation,” he responds, but there’s humor in his words. “I took a blood oath at my badge-pinning ceremony.”
“A blood oath? Do they stick the badges in your actual chest?”
“I’m not at liberty to say, Hannah. But just know it’s all very serious, very blood-oathy kind of shit at those ceremonies.”
I swear, if I smile any bigger, it might crack my lips. “Why do I get the sense that you’re lying through your teeth?”
“Probably because I am.” He chuckles. “And the only thing we found out tonight was that Waylon is no longer a suspect.”
Outright shock sends my stomach on a quick bid to my feet.
Waylon is no longer a suspect.
Wait ... what? How could they cross him off the list so easily?My thoughts spin, a messy swirl of fear and frustration.
Of all the callers who made me suspicious, that man was at the very top of my list. My conversations with him havealwaysmade me uncomfortable. His fixation with inflicting pain is downright disturbing.
“You there?” Dom asks, and I nod several times, swallowing hard against the dryness in my throat.
I only stop nodding when I realize he can’t actually see me. “Y-yeah,” I say through a tight throat. “Just surprised.”
“Me too,” he answers. “But don’t worry, Hannah. We’re going to solve this case. And more than that, I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
The way he says it—no hesitation—makes me feel like I can exhale. Bottom line, I trust Dom. Wholeheartedly.
When I hear the sounds of crunching gravel coming from the driveway, I move to the front door and peek through the sidelight as Dom’s unmarked black Camaro pulls to a stop in front of my house.
My smile is fixed as I head outside. And just as I’m stepping up to his car, I hit end on the call.
He rolls the window down and I rest my elbows on the ledge of the door.
“Another long night of keeping the May women safe?” I ask, and he grins up at me. That grin—it’s disarming. And it makes me feel like it’s meant just for me, like he’s letting me see a part of himself that he doesn’t show everyone else.
“Yep.”
