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“Was—was anyone hurt?” Her stomach pitched again as she thought about her neighbors, along with any firefighters who might have stumbled into a blaze triggered by what she had little doubt would turn out to be arson.
“No one injured,” Ace said, “but I’m—I’m afraid the place was gutted, the contents a total loss. There’s—there’s nothing left there to go back to. I’ve been asked to tell you that your cat is safe and doing very well with the detective.”
Relieved as Sierra was to know that Rocky was all right, a lump thickened in her throat at the thought of everything she’d ever worked for, every memory collected—including irreplaceable photos of both the mother who had left when she was little and the father she had loved so dearly—stolen from her, along with her name. But she was too numb to shed any more tears.
Taking a step closer, he smoothed a few strands of hair off her face. “I’ve had a taste of what it’s like, having an entire life, an identity, ripped out from under me. Of how hard it was to—”
“Don’t compare us, compare this. You still have family,” she said, her pain so blinding, she could only flail out at the nearest, the only, available target. “Hell, even some with your DNA. They’ve made it clear you’re still a Colton, with a bank account, the fancy car and condo to go with it and a whole damned posse that has your back. Who do I have left now? What?”
“You have me, Sierra, for whatever that’s worth,” he said, his tone giving the words the weight of a sacred vow. “And a safe place to rest and heal, for as long as you’ll need it.”
“And you have me freaking tied here,” she fired back. “Cut me loose, and I’m gone—because you have totally crossed the line.”
* * *
As Ace stepped into the hallway, he did his damnedest not to look like a man who’d been absolutely gutted. Arranging his face in what he hoped would pass for a neutral expression, he murmured a greeting to his half brother Callum, knowing there was no one he could trust more than the former navy SEAL and bodyguard to watch over the comings and goings around this out-of-the-way third-floor room, one Spencer had talked a helpful hospital administrator into setting up for the hastily christened Iris Higgins.
“You okay?” Callum asked him, the concern in his bright blue eyes telling Ace he hadn’t pulled off the casual look as well as he had hoped. “Or maybe I should ask, is she?” He nodded his reddish blond head in the direction of Sierra’s room.
“I’ll be fine, eventually,” Ace assured him. “As for her, I’ve given her a lot to process, and she’s not a bit happy about any of it. So please, keep a careful eye out for every possibility.”
Callum reached out and shook his hand, promising, “You can count on me.”
After leaving his brother with his thanks, Ace tried to tell himself that in suggesting the plan to fake her death, he’d only done what was necessary—what both Spencer and Sierra’s detective friend from Las Vegas, along with Mustang Valley’s police chief, had all agreed it was going to take to save Sierra. But the look of betrayal on her face, the hurt and loss he’d seen there, had him remembering all too painfully how he’d felt when all of his own choices had been taken from him. Had he, out of love and fear, done the same thing to her by jumping the gun too quickly instead of waiting until she’d been in the position to make the call
herself?
Groaning at the answer—and the wrenching fear that Sierra might never forgive him for it—he pushed the elevator’s button to take him downstairs.
When the door opened, Ainsley paused her pacing to look up at him. Though her dark hair was neatly pulled up and she was dressed in one of the stylish blouse, skirt and jacket combos she might wear to the office, he noted the subtle signs of stress—or at least sleep deprivation: an earring missing, eyeliner smudged and a slight puffiness beneath her eyes.
Figuring he looked even worse after his all-nighter, he asked simply, “Are you all right? I would’ve thought that after everything last night, you would’ve gone back home to get some rest.”
Though Spencer had had a sweep done of the area around the condo to reassure everyone the assassins weren’t lurking anywhere nearby, the events of last night had resulted in numerous calls among the siblings—and between Ace and Nova, too—as plans were made, details ironed out and nerves were soothed. Ace couldn’t imagine any of them had gotten more than a few hours of broken sleep, at best.
“I’ll be fine,” she said, hoisting a take-out cup that he recognized as coming from Java Jane’s, “and before you ask—Rafe, Grayson and Nova and Nikolas are all okay, too, this morning.”
“Nova...” he echoed, his sleep-deprived brain once more jolted by his new reality—his responsibility—as the only surviving parent of a grown daughter.
“You’ve really impressed her, by the way.” Ainsley’s smile was approving. “From what I could see, you handled that first meeting really well.”
“Not as much as she impressed me. And if I didn’t botch things with her last night, it was totally beginner’s luck,” he said. “But I’m determined to muddle my way through the whole dad thing as best as I can.”
“I always secretly suspected that you had it in you,” she teased, “even all those years you spent playing the part of corporate shark and Arizona’s most eligible bachelor.”
“Well, I’ve been retired from the former role and I’m pretty sure that at this point in my life, I’m permanently out of the running for the latter honor anyway,” he said, recalling the embarrassment—not to mention the teasing by his friends and siblings over being named man candy by some swanky lifestyle magazine out of Phoenix. “So is that all you came to see me about?”
She shook her head. “Actually, no. I was really hoping I might catch you before you went to see our father.”
“I was on my way for a visit,” he said, a mix of dread, fatigue and anticipation swirling at the thought of seeing their once-strong and vibrant father diminished by months in a comatose condition. “But I have to tell you, I just caught a whiff of that coffee you’re drinking, and it’s calling my name big time. So if you want to talk, how about we head over to the cafeteria? It won’t be half as good, but beggars can’t be choosers.”
“You’re on, but I’m buying,” she insisted. “And you’re having breakfast while you’re at it. Before you open that mouth of yours to argue, stop. You’ve already lost more weight than is good for you, and I’d bet my next paycheck you can’t remember the last time you had an actual meal.”
She would lose that bet, he knew, recalling the take-out dinner he’d shared with Sierra yesterday. A shared meal that had been a prelude to a conversation, and then a union that had torn his heart wide open...
“Ace? Don’t tune me out like that,” Ainsley warned, her eyes narrowing as she studied him intently. “Now, come on, big brother. Let’s get some food in you.”
“All right. You win, but only because it’s too damn early in the morning to go arguing with a lawyer,” he conceded, but as drained as he was feeling, he realized, too, how much he’d missed his sister’s harping on him—a sure sign that she cared.
