Page 76 of Property of Quake

Not before Carrie is placed in the back of a squad car, though. She doesn’t resist or yell or even speak. No more excuses and justifications, no more certainty that she was doing the right thing. She just looks… lost.

Lord, please get her the help she needs.

When the door closes, shutting her away from our view, I turn to Quake. The anger is still there. I can see it lingering beneath the surface. But then he kneels beside Melissa, and all she sees is the man who came for her.

The man who never stopped searching.

His hand settles gently on her shoulder.

"You ready to go home, sweetheart?"

Melissa looks at him, then me, then back again, a smile appearing on her sweet face. “Yeah.”Then at me.

I pull her into another hug. A moment later, Quake rises and wraps his arms around both of us, and everything inside me finally settles.

She's safe.

She's loved.

And she's coming home.

23

QUAKE

By the time we make it back to the clubhouse, exhaustion has settled into my bones so deeply that I can barely remember the last time I slept.

The adrenaline from the rescue carried me through the drive. The sight of Melissa safe in the backseat, curled into Whitney’s side carried me through the rest.

Now that we're home, the reality of the night finally catching up with all of us.

We’d been all set to leave the crime scene, having been released by the police, but then my phone rang. Apparently, they also called Child Protective Services since Carrie was a caseworker, and Melissa, a ward of the state. The emergency child services supervisor had to sort through the immediate placement issue. Carrie was in custody, a replacement caseworker had already been assigned, and everybody involved agreed that forcing Melissa through another move in the middle of the night would do more harm than good.

I’m pretty sure Lyric put in a call to the family court judge, as well. Money greases palms, after all.

Finally, after a series of rushed phone calls, background checks, and emergency placement discussions, Melissa was authorized to remain temporarily at the clubhouse with Whitney and me while the investigation continued and a more permanent plan could be established.

Given the look of absolute panic on Melissa's face whenever anyone suggested separating her from us, the decision hadn't seemed particularly difficult.

I park the truck and glance in the rearview mirror. Melissa is asleep, and Whitney is barely hanging on.

The sight nearly wrecks me.

I almost lost them tonight. I can’t even imagine what I’d do if the worst had happened.

Probably end up in a psych ward next to Carrie.

I get out and open the back door. Whitney carefully brushes a strand of hair away from Melissa's face.

"Poor thing."

I nod, no words sufficient enough to say what I’m feeling. I slide one arm beneath Melissa's knees and the other around her back. She doesn't wake. She simply sighs and settles more comfortably against my chest.

The movement does something strange to me. I don't examine it too closely. I'm too tired, and besides, I already know what it is.

Love.

As I carry her inside the clubhouse entrance, I notice that the common room is clean, cleared of all traces of our frantic searching. I make a mental note to thank the old ladies and club whores. No doubt they knew it wouldn’t be good for Melissa to see when we came home.