Page 52 of Married to the Enemy

But she didn’t let him speak. She launched herself into his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist, holding on like she never planned to let go. She was shaking, her tears hot where her face pressed into his throat.

“Don’t you ever do that again!” she choked out, her voice thick with sobs. “I love you, you stupid man!”

His throat tightened. He buried his face in her hair, breathing in her scent. “I love you too,” he muttered, holding her so tight it almost hurt.

Over her shoulder, he caught sight of Freddy and Evangeline standing near the SUV. Freddy, leaning heavily on his walker, lifted one hand in the air facing Evangeline, who slapped it soundly, the pair grinning victoriously.

Smug. Triumphant.

Raffe shook his head, a breath of incredulous laughter escaping. Then he hugged Mia closer, unwilling to let her go.

Not now. Not ever.

Chapter 38

Raffe didn’t want to leave. Every instinct in him screamed at him to stay right here—in this old Elizabethan house that creaked softly in the night, faintly scented by coffee and laundry soap—because this was where his family was. His family. The word still rattled him every time it passed through his head.

But something gnawed at him. Barry Trello in that damn treehouse. Jim Fuller’s break-in. The shredded bedding. All of it was wrong. And why the hell had Barry been watching Evangeline? The question itched at the back of his head, refusing to let go.

“Go,” Mia whispered, stepping closer until he felt her breath against his cheek. Her voice was steady, but her dark eyes shimmered with emotion.

“I’ll stay,” he countered automatically. His feet felt cemented to the tile floor, even as the weight of duty pulled him in two directions at once.

Mia moved closer, until her hands pressed flat against his chest, grounding him. She rose onto her toes, her gaze locked on his. “I can tell something’s bothering you,” she murmured. “I can see it in your eyes.” Then, without hesitation, she kissed him—firm, certain, giving him the strength she knew he needed. When she pulled back, she added, “We’re fine. The bad guys are gone, and there’s a police officer out front. She’ll keep us safe until you get back.”

Raffe rested his hands on her hips, the warmth of her body sinking into his palms. He wanted to believe her. Wanted to stay, to bury his face in her hair, to keep her and the people he loved behind a wall of his own making. But his gut wouldn’t let him. Pieces of the puzzle clattered in his head, scattered and unfinished, demanding his attention.

“Go!” Evangeline barked from her spot at the kitchen table. She waved a hand dismissively, as though shooing him toward his duty. Her silver hair was mussed, her eyes sparkling with mischief and steel. “We’ve got Freddy here to protect us too.”

Freddy snorted, his young voice breaking the tension. “Mia’s more likely to kick someone’s butt,” he teased. His grin was small but proud as he leaned against the counter, his walker within arm’s reach “Go, Raffe,” he urged. “We’ll stay inside and keep the doors locked. I’ll have my phone ready to call nine-one-one if we’re even the tiniest bit scared.”

Raffe’s throat tightened. He looked at the boy—this stubborn, resilient kid who had somehow become his responsibility and his heart—and said quietly, “Call me. I’ll get here faster.”

All three nodded in unison, the trust in their eyes the only thing that gave him the will to move.

Still, he lingered. He bent and kissed Mia again, lingering this time, tasting the promise in her lips. When he finally pulled away, Raffe moved to Evangeline and brushed her cheek with a kiss, the old woman sniffing as if trying to hide her own emotions. Then he crouched in front of Freddy, pulling the boy into a hug. Freddy’s arms locked around his neck, surprising him with their fierce strength.

“Thanks,” Freddy whispered, just loud enough for Raffe to hear.

Raffe swallowed hard, whispering back, “Thank you.”

Because this kid, this tough, beaten-down boy, was the reason they were here. The reason they were fighting.

When he finally straightened and turned toward the door, his chest felt filled with lead. He didn’t want to leave them. They were a ragtag assembly of a family, but they were his family now. And God help anyone who threatened them.

Right now, he needed answers. Answers only Barry Trello and Jim Fuller could provide.

So, he stepped out into the night, the crunch of pea gravel under his boots sounding louder than it should have, every step away from the warm kitchen like a blade in his gut.

Chapter 39

Fifteen minutes later, Raffe pushed through the heavy steel door of the interrogation room with Diane at his side. The hum of the fluorescent lights overhead buzzed loudly in the silence, casting everything in a sterile, yellowed glow. Barry Trello was already there, slouched in the hard-backed chair at the metal table. The sight of Raffe made him freeze, like a rabbit catching sight of a hawk. His eyes widened, and his hand instinctively clutched at his ribs.

The detective assigned to the case shifted uncomfortably against the wall. He didn’t bother to hide the annoyance flashing across his face, resentment at having to give up the lead on this investigation. But Raffe didn’t care. This wasn’t about turf wars or bruised egos. This was about his family. About Mia. About Evangeline. About Freddy.

And Raffe wasn’t about to let this Barry-weasel jeopardize their safety.

He pulled out the chair opposite Barry, spun it around, and straddled it backward, resting his arms on the backrest. He didn’t speak. Didn’t blink. Just fixed Barry with that steely stare he’d perfected over years in undercover work.