“Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” he rasps. The single word holds so much meaning I have no choice but to believe him.
20
Sutton
I didn’t sleeplast night.
Which is why, at approximately six forty-five, at the sound of soft footsteps climbing the stairs, I pop out of Nellie’s pink bed and stretch the kink from my back.
I just catch the tail of my baggy sweatshirt disappearing around the corner as I reach the base of the steps. The sound of the percolating coffee pot reaches my ears. Leaving Alice occupied for at least a few moments, I scroll through my phone and call my chief for an update before I go up there.
“Sutton,” he answers on the first ring.
“Fill me in.”
His sigh is long and loud. “I’m sorry to say there isn’t much. There were no signs of forced entry, and he didn’t stick around. Whatever this guy was doing, Ms. Thompson interrupted him, and he got out of Dodge.”
“We don’t know how long he was in there. He could have been doing anything. Tampering with her food. Planting cameras.”
“We did a sweep, but her place is so clean it was hard to tell if anything was disturbed. We might have better luck having her walk through.”
The stubble on my cheek prickles my palm. “I can make that work. We need to come by for some of her clothes.”
“She’s free to return home any time.” There’s a vein of suspicion in his tone. This guy is bright and has known me since I was green as the goddamn grass. He doesn’t miss much.
“She won’t be returning.”
He chuckles. “Does she know that?”
“Not yet.”
“Good luck with that, Stone. I’ll let you know if I hear anything else.”
“I’d appreciate that.”
The call disconnects as I head up the stairs. The smell of coffee lures me to the kitchen. I find Alice hovering over her phone in the corner, her back to the room. So absorbed in her morning routine, she hasn’t noticed me yet.
I take a moment to soak her in. She looks damn good in my hoodie. It drops so low on her toned thighs I can’t tell if she’s still wearing those cut-off jean shorts or if there’s nothing beneath. She ditched the blue boots when we got home last night. Her feet are bare, toes still manicured in the color from the dance with Nellie.
She looks like she belongs here.
My gut tightens with the thought.
I wish she could belong here. I wish I was the kind of man who wasn’t scared to try again. To give my daughter the one thing she’s been missing since she was barely a year old. Last night was just a reminder of exactly why I keep my distance. To think I could have lost her when she isn’t even mine to lose is already unbearable.
And if I was in love with her?
How do I risk that sort of agony? For me or my daughter?
She’s made an impact on our lives in such a short amount of time.
“Sutton! You scared me.” Alice covers her heart with a palm over her chest.
“Sorry,” I rasp, voice still gritty from the late night. “I heard you get up. Couldn’t sleep?”
“I did for a while, but this”—she circles her hand in front of her bruised face—“is more intense than it was last night.”
