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I wish I could stay in Matt’s arms all day, my face pressed to his strong shoulder, my fingertips on his face, his voice in my ears. I wish I could strip him bare, run my hands all over his body, map its hollows and ridges, the path of his muscles and the shape of his bones.
Even worn out and worried, he’s so handsome. With every wall he tears down for me, he becomes more beautiful.
This man I love.
But Matt’s phone starts to buzz, and there’s noise outside the house door.
“Fucking John,” Matt growls, and I tug on his beard. “What?”
“He’s doing all he can to help.”
“Yeah.” He blinks at me, gives me a quick half-smile, and pulls out his phone from his back pocket. “Hansen. Yeah, Johnny boy, I’ll come out, the kids are asleep.”
“Stop calling him that.” I swat at his hand holding the phone, and he grins at me.
It makes me smile.
“Yeah, all right.” He disconnects. “We’ll do this on the porch. Keep our eye on the kids.”
Paranoid. As if the psycho stalker will enter the house with us a few feet away and snatch the kids.
But he’s done it once already today, so…
There’s a soft knock on the door, and we get up, Matt pulling me along with him. John is waiting outside, looking somber.
“Kids okay?” he asks, and I like him more for starting with this.
Matt nods, and I take his hand, because why not?
Is he my boyfriend now?
Is he mine, like I’m his?
“We’ve spread out, looking for our suspect, but we don’t have a description we can use,” John says. He shades his eyes against the sun. “He obviously wanted to scare you, make you believe he’d killed the kids, but planted clues to let you find them quickly. As to who he is… It’s like looking for a needle in a haystack.”
“What about Alina’s brother? Did you find out anything about him? What’s his name, for starters?”
“Jeff Adams.”
I start. That name… I’ve heard it before. “Adam?” I whisper. “Adam Cash.”
“No, not Adam.” John glances at the police car parked outside the gate, nods at the agents sitting inside. “Jeff Adams.”
Oh my God. “Ross said…” I try to swallow but
my throat is suddenly dried up. “He said Adam gave a different name at the garage when he went to get his car fixed. Jeff Adams.”
Matt pulls me to his side, puts his arm around me, his brows drawing together. “What the fuck? Isn’t Adam your wannabe boyfriend?”
I can’t speak. I see myself walking beside Adam—Jeff?—to the ice cream shop, holding hands. Him asking me to kiss him.
God, I think I’m going to be sick.
“He said something about his sister,” I whisper, my voice faint even to myself. “That his sister lost someone, and he was visiting her, but—”
“Alina’s dead,” Matt snarls. “He was toying with you.”
John lifts his cell to his ear. “Anything else you know about this Jeff Adams?” he asks me. “Do you have his address by any chance?”
