by Jo Raven
“Hey.” Miles sidles up to me and props his elbow on the counter.
Which is pretty funny since he’s still short and he looks like he’s trying to hug the counter, instead. He brushes his blond hair back with his other hand, trying to look nonchalant and cool. Grown-up.
I swallow a snicker. “Spill.”
“What?”
“Whatever it is you’re dying to say. I know you, buddy. You came here with a purpose. I can tell from your attitude.” I grin at him. “So spill.”
He sighs, slumping a little. “Dammit.”
“Language.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He shuffles his feet, scuffing his shoes against the floor. “It’s about Tessa.”
I stiffen and turn to grab a glass from the cupboard. “What about her? I thought you loved her.”
“I do! I mean…” He swallows audibly. “You should totally propose to her.”
Surprised, I turn to look at him, glass in hand. “What? Why are you saying that?”
“Because you want to. Because you’re happy with her. And… and we are, too.”
My throat closes. Shit. “She doesn’t want this, Miles.”
“Yes, she does. She told me so.” He pushes off the counter and stalks away.
“She did? When? Why were you talking about this?” I frown as he walks out of the kitchen. “Miles!”
And then I stop, frozen. She wants to marry me? Holy shit! Holy fucking shit, she wants to marry me.
So of course I pump my fist in the air. “Yessss.”
Like a three-year-old. Don’t judge.
I need to start planning.
Chapter Twenty-One
Tessa
A phone starts ringing in the middle of the night. I groan, twisting on the bed, reaching for my phone. I always leave it on the nightstand so I can hit the snooze button easily in the morning after the alarm goes off.
But my phone is dark and silent.
Dylan sighs and sits up, bringing his phone to his ear, the faint light illuminating the lines of his face. “’ello? Who is it?”
I sit up, clutching the covers to my chest. We fell asleep naked last night, our limbs intertwined, and now a shiver wracks me—as much from the cold as from the stillness in Dylan’s expression.
“Z-man, are you sure about this? Yesterday you said you didn’t recognize—” Dylan rubs at his eyes and falls back on his pillow. “Yeah, okay. Tomorrow? Oh right. Yeah, we’ll do that. Now go get some rest.”
He lets the phone drop on his chest and groans.
“What happened?” I turn on the bedside lamp.
“Zane says he thinks the bearded guy I showed him is the one.” He rolls his head toward me. “He says he’s pretty sure, but now I’m not. He said it wasn’t him yesterday, and now when he doesn’t even have the picture in front of him, he thinks…” Dylan closes his eyes. “He probably had a nightmare and got fucking confused.”
“Or he remembered the guy’s face.”
He opens his eyes again, reaches for me. “You believe that?”
I let him pull me against his side and wrap an arm over his muscular middle. “It’s possible. We remember things in our sleep that escape us when we’re awake.”
He’s staring at my mouth, and it makes it hard to concentrate. Hard is also a good word to describe a certain part of his anatomy that’s rising to say hello.
Oh for heaven’s sake. I’m rattled by the phone call, and tired, and I have this absurd urge to laugh by the fact he’s horny right now, only nothing about his hard-on is funny. It’s a pretty impressive, serious-looking specimen, and his eyes do that heavy-lidded thing that turns need into a knot in my belly.
“Dyl…”
“I’m listening,” he whispers, his voice hoarse, and then he’s kissing me and dragging me on top of him. “But better still, let’s talk tomorrow, when we’re fully awake and can deal with that shit. Tonight ride me, baby.”
And I do, biting the inside of my cheek not to moan out loud as he guides himself inside me, and we rock together in the dark.
***
We’re standing on the sidewalk outside a low house with a gently sloping roof, two tall trees in the front lawn and an empty driveway.
“Well, the area fits,” Asher says. “It’s not all that far from that Walmart Supercenter. Or Woodland Park where Zane ended up. In fact it’s roughly between the two.”
“But the sedan isn’t here.” Dylan stalks toward the house, peers through a curtained window. “Can’t see anyone, either.”
It may not be the right house. The right man.
None of this is right, anyway.
Zane walks up the driveway, Dakota by his side. Megan and Erin are at home, watching over all the kids and babies, and Rafe is at the shop, because someone has to be—but otherwise we’re all here.
Not sure what we’re thinking. What we could do other than look at the house, maybe talk to the neighbors. Find the man himself? Ask him if he ever tortured Zane?
Jesus. What if it’s dangerous? I shoot Audrey an uneasy look. She’s pregnant, and I wish she’d stayed home, but of course she’s here. My friend is a stubborn girl, which is why I love her. Zane is a good friend, the man who saved Asher, who played a huge role in making her happy.
Hopefully nothing bad happens today.
Hopefully something does happen, to put an end to Zane’s nightmares and the shadows haunting everyone’s eyes.
I follow along the driveway, glancing through the window into a nearly empty living room, barely furnished with a ratty couch and some shelves. There’s trash strewn on the floor—candy wrappers, pizza cardboard boxes, bottles.
My heart thudding heavily, I seek out Dylan and take his hand. To reassure him, I tell myself. He has to feel as unsettled by all this as I do.
He squeezes my hand, and I feel better, his solid presence and bright eyes calming me down. “I don’t think he’s in.”
And I shouldn’t feel so relieved to hear it. Also… “How do you know?”
“A gut feeling. His car is missing, too. And Tyler was ringing the bell when I left him out front.”
“He might not be in the mood for visitors.”
Dylan shrugs. “Maybe.”
The yard is shabby, unswept, covered in rotting leaves and twigs. There are old things stacked in the back: a rusty washing machine, and a freezer, together with piles of crates and musty cardboard boxes.
Asher tries the back door, then raps on it, and on the windows. The banging echoes in the quiet neighborhood.
There’s no reply from inside. A small dog from inside another house starts barking.
Dakota wanders to a small window, maybe of a bathroom, and calls for Zane to lift her up, which he does easily. She’s tiny.
“See anything?” I ask, standing behind them.
“He’s a slob. Dirty clothes and towels all around.” Zane lowers her back down. “I’m not even sure what we’re looking for. If he’s not here, how can we do anything?”
“I’m going to talk to the neighbors,” I announce, and smile when Dylan joins me. “We’ll take the house to the right.”
“We’ll take the other side,” Tyler says, coming around the house, pushing dark hair from his eyes. “You guys ask across the street. We need to know if this is Kenneth’s house, if he still lives here, what car he drives, what he eats, and anything else we can find out.”
Zane lifts his brows at that. “Right on it, Sarge.”
It’s good to see him reacting like he normally would, not as… zombie-like as he’s been of late. I bet the fact that we believe him now, that he doesn’t feel like he’s going crazy anymore, has helped.
“Screw you,” Tyler mutters, grinning wolfishly, his brow smoothing out. “We’re close now, I can feel it.”
“Don’t care about your feelings, fucker.” Zane tugs on Dakota’s hand, hauls her closer. “Kidding aside, I just need this to be fucking over.”
“We’ve made it this far,” I say. “Let’s mak
e it count. Anything we find out could help.”
“Yeah.” Dylan slides an arm around my waist, distracting me. “We need some fucking answers.”
That we do, no doubt about it.
***
I wonder how the others are faring on their neighbor-locating missions as Dylan and I ring the doorbell of the house next door for the third time. In fact, I can see Zane and Dakota walking away from the house across the street to try the one beside.
Is the whole neighborhood off to work or hiding from us?
“You haven’t been to work again,” Dylan remarks as he tries to look through a window, cupping his eyes to see through the glass.
Took him a while to comment on this. My face warms. “I asked Mason for a day off. I wanted to be part of this,” I wave a hand vaguely, “hunt.”
“I’m glad you’re here.” He smiles at me.
I felt bad for not being there for Zane before, and I made up my mind to ask for time off. Mason didn’t like it, but hey, tough. Work isn’t the most important thing in my life. “I needed to use some of the overtime Mason owes me anyway.”
Dylan’s brows shoot up, and okay, ever since Mason hired me I’ve never talked about using my overtime, or taking time off.
I’m regretting it. I should’ve done it earlier. Should’ve put my priorities straight.
“Something has changed with you, hasn’t it?” he whispers, and I lean in to kiss his rough cheek. “Not that I’m complaining.”
I smile against his face. “Good. I told you, I’m planning to be around more often. My job was never more important than you, Dyl. God knows I’d have given everything up to be with you.”
“But I wouldn’t want that.”
“I know. Which makes it my choice, and it’s not like I’m giving anything up. Just finding the right balance.”
“I bet—”
I never find out what he was about to say, because the door of the house creaks open, and a suspicious eye gleams in the opening.
“Who are you?” a gravelly voice says, and it takes me a moment to realize it belongs to a woman. “What do you want?”
“Hi.” I insert myself in front of Dylan who’s scowling, pasting on a bright smile. “We’re looking for Kenneth Shaw. We’re, uh, his friends.”
I hope she didn’t notice my hesitation.
Dylan lets out a small growl behind me, and I reach back and pat blindly at his arm. What’s with the werewolf behavior? I shoot him a scolding glance over my shoulder.
“Friends of his?” the woman asks and her voice rises. “Friends?”
Crap. “Well, not exactly…” I falter.
“He owes us money,” Dylan says, grabbing my waist and pulling me to his side. “We have been looking all over for him, and only now someone recognized his face, and we ended up here. Does he live in the house next door?”
I’m standing there in shock, wondering if the woman will slam the door in our face.
But she doesn’t and belatedly I realize that her voice when she’d said friends had not only been incredulous.
It had been angry.
She doesn’t like Kenneth Shaw, I think, as the pieces fall into place. And Dylan figured it out the moment she spoke those first words.
I stare at my boyfriend, flabbergasted. That was hot. Smart guys are hot, and mine is the smartest, sexiest, yummiest—
“He owes you money, huh?” The woman’s voice jolts me out of my lust-induced trance. “That doesn’t surprise me. That guy creeps the fudge outta me.”
Okay… I glance sideways at Dylan who’s nodding at her words.
“Why’s that, ma’am?” he says, and the woman opens the door a bit more. Dylan can charm the clothes off little old ladies, if and when he puts his mind to it. I kinda knew that.
Never seen him in action before, though.
Not that the woman now visible in the door opening is undressing or anything, but she’s not hiding anymore. She shoots a furtive glance at Kenneth’s house and makes a face.
“Something’s off with him. He only moved here a couple of months ago, and from day one I felt like there are eyes watching me from his windows. I’m scared to walk outside.”
Um. “Eyes?”
“I thought I saw a kid once in one of the windows,” she goes on. “And another time I heard a child scream, but that can’t be. I’ve never seen any kids with him.”
Dylan tenses beside me. “Are you sure you heard the scream?”
“I have very good hearing,” the woman says, a little haughtily. “Used to be a music teacher. It was during the night, in summer, and I always leave my window open. It faces his house, you see. I know what I heard, but Ruth from across the street told me I was lying when I told her. That deaf old bat wouldn’t hear on orchestra playing on her lawn, let alone anything from across the street.”
Icy fingers are wrapping around my spine. “And the face you saw in the window? Where were you?”
“You doubting my eyesight now?” She squints at me, and I force myself to lift my chin and wait for her reply. “I saw that kid when I went out to take the trash early one morning. His mouth was open like he was shouting something, and he was waving his hand. I waved back. Then he vanished, and I never saw anyone in the house again. But it gives me the heebie-jeebies, it does.” She lowers her voice. “I think it’s haunted.”
Oh God.
“Thank you, Ms.…?” Dylan says, his jaw tight.
“Debsy. Monique Debsy.” She is shutting the door again. “I hope you get your money back, though I doubt it.”
“Ms. Debsy!” I wrench myself from Dylan’s side, put my hand against the door. “What car does Kenneth Shaw have?”
She squints at me, as if trying to decide whether I am real or a ghost like the ones inhabiting the house next door. “A white sedan. All scratched on one side. Why?”
And she closes the door before I can even think of a reply.
Because, holy crap! We’re at the right place, all the clues pointing that way.
So what do we do now?
***
“Did you guys find out anything?” I ask later as we all gather around the three cars we came in.
“Nobody was in,” Audrey says.
“We talked to a couple further down the street,” Zane says. “They don’t know who lives here.”
“I talked to a young guy,” Tyler says, “who says he’s seen a man going in and out of the house but doesn’t know him.” He narrows his eyes at us. “Why, did you talk to anyone?”
Dylan proceeds to tell them what we found out, and a hush falls over us. Zane staggers a step back, his back hitting the car, and Dakota takes his hand.
“It’s real,” he whispers. “He’s here. He’s fucking here.”
Dakota turns and wraps her arms around him.
Swallowing around the lump in my throat is hard. “We have to go to the police. We found the guy, found his house. Now we need someone to arrest him.”
“Sounds good, but we have no proof of anything,” Dylan mutters, kicking at the curb, hands in his pockets, his short blond hair catching the light. “They won’t look into it without proof.”
“We have to try.” I glance from Zane’s pale face to Dylan’s worried eyes. “Surely there must be something to be done. If that man really hurt Zane…”
“I’m gonna fucking rip him apart for this,” Asher says quietly. “He’ll be back, sooner or later, and goddammit, I will be waiting for him.”
Zane winces.
“Ash, don’t.” Audrey strokes his arm. “Tessa is right. We need to go to the police. There’s nothing we can do on our own.”
“And if they do nothing? If it’s too late? If there’s no fucking evidence they can use? We let this guy walk?”
“We’re not the law,” Zane says, his voice silencing us all. “Nothing we do now will undo what he did. Unless he has children in the house.” He glances at me, his gaze sharpening. “If he has kids in there, if he has hurt them, then…”
>
“Then we’ll either see him behind bars or take him out ourselves,” Tyler says, and no matter how his words chill me to the bone, I nod.
No other kid should have to go through what Zane did.
***
We pick the kids up and tell Megan and Erin what happened. They’ll go with Zane and Dakota to the police station tomorrow. Unfortunately, I can’t skip another day from work, but I plan to go back home as early as possible. My boyfriend and my kids need me—and yeah, I know I’m not their mother, but I feel like I am.
I can try to be more like a mother to them, at least. Take care of them, love them as they deserve to be loved. Not be absent all the time.
Mason will have to understand.
On the way home, Miles is talking excitedly about a videogame he likes, and Teo is engrossed in a comic I don’t recognize, probably filched from Megan and Rafe’s apartment.
Dylan will return it. I have to explain to Teo that he can’t just “borrow” things he likes from our friends’ homes.
I gaze at Dylan’s profile as he drives. “You knew that neighbor didn’t like Kenneth,” I say, because it’s been on my mind since then. “How?”
He grins. “I can read women.”
“You can?”
“Yeah. Like right now. I know you want to jump my bones.”
“Really?” I glance back at the kids, but they don’t seem to be paying us any attention.
“It’s that gleam in your eyes. You can’t get enough of me, admit it.”
“I admit it,” I whisper.
His grin widens as he parks the car outside the building and kills the engine. “I used to have to hunt for compliments. You’re making it too easy.”
“I don’t want it to be difficult.” I give him a smile. “We have enough of that outside home.”
And to demonstrate, I grab both kids in a hug the moment we exit the car, even though Miles struggles and mumbles under his breath.
“You guys,” I tell them. “You don’t know how much I love you. Now go on, run inside.”
Dylan is grinning at me as he wraps an arm around my shoulders and guides me into the building. “What brought this on?”
“Just thinking I don’t show you all how much I care for you.”
“Wanna show me again tonight, when we’re alone?” He waggles his brows, making me laugh.
