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Dylan was over there with a dark-haired woman—and some of those damned Tylers. Arthur didn’t want any of his girls near Tylers. But he kept his mouth shut for now.
The new sheriff wasn’t a pushover. His father hadn’t been, either.
Neither was his mother, who was fussing over Gerald in a way that shouted definitely not platonic at all. He knew who she was. She’d been his sister Jess’s closest friend for as long as Arthur could remember, and had been married to Gerald’s best friend. Apparently, Rhea and Gerald had gotten a lot closer since they’d lost their spouses.
He hoped his brother’s life washappynow.
Gerald had loved Sherry so much. Arthur had known she’d passed away. He’d known what was going on in his brother’s life, at least. The internet and news had made sure of that. He had a hard time looking at his twin. Arthur understood why. Leaving his brother hadhurt.Far more than Arthur ever could have anticipated it back then. But now? Now he knew differently.
Arthur knew what mattered most.
The eight young women watching everything that was happening now.
They looked so young. So confused. So hurt. He checked on Devaney once more. She was leaning against Dorie now. Worry shot through him. Devaney was his most stoic daughter. She wouldn’t say a word if she was hurting, not if it would keep her sisters and her mother from worrying. The marks on her beautiful face—he would never forget, nor forgive.
“I know what Morris Preston was doing twenty-three years ago.” It was the only bargaining chip Arthur really had. He’d spentdecadescollecting every bit of information about Morris Preston and his particular brand of evil, just for this very moment. He said it loudly enough for everyone in the damned room to hear. “Let Dylan go now, get Devaney to the hospital, make certainallof my daughters are safe and unharmed, make sure my wife is safe, and I’ll tell you everything. Things I didn’t even tell the US Marshals twenty-three years ago.”
“You were WITSEC?” The sheriff’s eyes narrowed. He resembled the father he’d lost. Daniel Masterson had been a good man. A good friend. It hurt to know he was no longer with them.
“Yes.”
“We’ll talk. Back at my office.”
“Only if you let my daughter go. Dylan is young, impetuous. If she thought she was protecting her sisters—” His daughter had always known what was most important. Dylan might be reckless, but it was out of love for her sisters. He studied her for a moment. Her shirt was red, but that side was darker red. And it was growing. “Is she bleeding?She’sbleeding.I can see blood on her. She needs to be taken care of right now.”
She was far better than Arthur would ever be. And had the mostheartof anyone he knew. He looked at her again. So tiny, that one. She never had gotten very big and was still very sensitive about her size, but she was his scrappy little fighter. He hadn’t reallyfeltanything after leaving the girls twenty-three years ago—until he’d finally been allowed to hold his Dylan, once she’d been healthy enough in the hospital back then. He’d made her a promise that day—to take care of her far better than he had her older sisters.
He’d failed in that promise, too.
“Sage, go ahead and let her go,” the sheriff told the pretty brown-eyed deputy standing next to Arthur’s fifth daughter.
A young man with the look of that asshole Marty Tyler behind her protested. Kid was a Tyler, no denying that. Damned hotheaded, redheaded bastards. Bruce Tyler was someone Arthur was never going to forget. Or forgive.
Bruce had screwed him over, then laughed all about it. Said it was revenge for Marty and something to do with Arthur’s baby sister, so long ago. Jessica had never had a thing to do with those lowlife Tylers. She wouldn’t have. No smart woman ever would.
Grief for her was as strong as it was for his father, and always would be.
Arthur’s arrogance had cost him the chance to say goodbye.
The sheriff held up a hand. “We reserve the right to bring charges against her for your truck later, Fletch. That’s as good as you are going to get tonight.”
Then Dylan was free and headed straight toward her little sisters.
The four of them just clung to each other. And eyed their older sisters. Suspiciously. His younger girls weren’t so great in crowds. His doing. He’d kept them too isolated, close to home. And just when they’d be comfortable somewhere, he’d pack them up and move them somewhere new. Just to keep them safe.
He’d told them they hadeach other,and that was enough. Said it enough times until everyone had believed it. Even knowing he hadn’t been fair to his daughters.
But they wouldn’t understand that.Everythinghe’d done that night after Morris Preston had changed everything had been for those eight girls right there and the wife he adored so much. Everything.
If Arthur left this world tonight, he would die remembering all of his daughters together for the first time.
His girls.
He loved each and every one of them so damned much.
He had just never known how to show it.
“They deserved so much better than me,” he said softly. “I’ve always known that.”
