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I breathed a sigh of relief as the guards led my father away. Paxton put an arm around me. “Are you okay?” he asked.
I swallowed the hard lump in my throat and nodded. “Yeah. I just can’t believe he did that. He’s disgusting.”
“I know.” Paxton grimaced and stared after my father as he crossed the room. “He’s a fucking animal.”
Tears sprang to my eyes. “I feel so alone now. My mom’s gone, I don’t have any siblings, and now I’ve lost my father too,” I said. “I mean, I know he isn’t dead, but—”
Paxton gently interrupted me. “It’s okay,” he said, wrapping his arms around me in a tight hug. “I understand. But you need to know that you’re never alone. Not as long as I’m alive. Got it?”
I nodded and tilted my chin to look up at him. “Thank you,” I said, voice barely above a whisper.
“You don’t need to thank me. Just be with me. Be mine.”
With that, Paxton leaned down and kissed me.
Sienna
Tate and I sat on a bench outside the police precinct, our gazes fixed on the imposing entrance. Paxton had disappeared into the station two hours ago to make a long and undoubtedly arduous statement about Michaela and our theory regarding her possible involvement in the Forrester case.
We’d decided that it was best for him to do it, because the police probably wouldn’t trust my opinion on the case, given my previous false accusation. So while he was inside giving his statement, Tate accompanied me on the outside, ensuring I was never alone.
“I’m really sorry, Sienna,” he murmured for what was probably the fifteenth time. “This whole situation is completely fucked.”
“I know.” I sighed and wearily rubbed my eyes. “I never would’ve thought my dad could do something like that. Or Michaela.”
“Me neither.” His lips tightened into a grimace. “But now that we know about the affair and her obsession with him, it all makes sense. She felt like she had to get rid of you.”
“And she had to stage an entire massacre to make it look like I wasn’t the sole target,” I added, shaking my head. “It’s just crazy. I still feel like it can’t possibly be real.”
Tate opened his mouth to reply, but we were both distracted by a flash of movement at the precinct entrance. Paxton had just emerged.
We stood and hurried toward him. “How’d it go?” Tate asked.
“Good news and bad news,” Paxton replied, eyes lingering on me. “They were very interested in what I had to say about Michaela, given your dad’s admitted involvement with her. I also told them what she’s been doing to you over the last few months—clearly trying to get you out of your dad’s life, presumably so she can try to have him to herself.”
“The bad news?”
“Right now, there’s no actual evidence that she committed the massacre. So they can’t arrest her. They’ll need to start an investigation. It could take weeks.”
My brows shot up. “So Michaela will just be walking around free for all that time?”
“Yes. Unfortunately.” Paxton took my hand and squeezed it. “But don’t worry. As long as she has no idea that we know anything, things should be okay. If you hear from her, just act normal.”
“But she’ll know something is going on as soon as the stuff about my dad hits the media.”
“They’ve been ordered to suppress that story for now. So while the investigation is going on, Michaela will have no clue that people know about the affair. Your father has also been told not to contact her in any way, and that can easily be enforced, given how much trouble he’s in now.”
Tate sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “God, it’s going to be so hard acting like we don’t know anything.”
“No shit.” Paxton’s lips thinned. Then he looked at me again. “Just in case, I think you should stay with me at my dorm from now on. You shouldn’t be alone, and I’m back over in Logue Hall now, so that will put some distance between you and Michaela. And if I can’t be with you for some reason, then Tate should be with you.”
Tate nodded. “That’s a good idea.”
Paxton’s hand moved up to rub my shoulder. At the same time, his phone pinged in his suit jacket. With a frown, he pulled it out of his pocket, looked at the screen, and let out a soft curse.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, brows knitting.
“The Capitals head coach was at the fundraiser tonight. Apparently he wanted to talk to me about my future, but obviously we were too busy with our plan to nab your dad. So now he wants me to meet him at the hotel bar.”
