James Russo is one exceptionally good-looking criminal.
Figures.
“I think you owe her an explanation, James.” Officer Russo’s eyes soften with his voice as he addresses his son.
James drops his gaze to the floor and shifts his weight from one foot to the other in silence. “I was looking for my brother, and when I saw the light you left on in your kitchen, I thought…” He swallows before he pushes out the rest of the words. “I didn’t expect you to be here.”
“And there’s supposed to be an apology in there somewhere,” his father whispers loud enough for me to hear.
James’s jaw tics before he sets his eyes on me. “I’m sorry for scaring you.”
Damn. This guy barrels into someone’s house in the middle of the night in search of his brother, and mine can’t even shoot me a simple text to wish me luck on my first day out of a mental facility.
Curiosity urges my next question. “Why did you think your brother would be inmyhouse?”
His father answers for him. “We haven’t seen him in a while. Sometimes he squats here instead of coming home. He—”
“Can you uncuff me now?” James cuts in.
Officer Russo gives me an apologetic smile as he unlocks the handcuffs. Without another glance in my direction, James turns around and heads down the stairs.
Officer Russo pinches the bridge of his nose. “He gets upset when his brother disappears like this.”
“He does this often?”
He shrugs like he doesn’t know what else to say. “My boy will turn up when he wants to be found. Always does.”
What does that mean?But it’s not my business to keep prying into his family drama. “If there’s anything I can do to help you find your son, please let me know. I watch a lot ofCold Case Files.”
Officer Russo chuckles. “That won’t be necessary.” He turns toward the staircase and pauses. “We’re a sorry attempt at a welcoming committee, but welcome to the neighborhood, Miss Bridges. If you ever need anything, feel free to come by. Call me old-fashioned, but I don’t like the idea of a young woman living here all by herself.”
Warmth pools in my chest. “You don’t have to worry about me, sir.”
No one else does.
After he leaves, I close the door behind him and wedge a chair under the damaged knob in an attempt to secure the house.
That fucker broke my lock.
2
Phoenix
Daily Affirmation: “I am on the right path in life, and I am going in the right direction.”
I wakeup to the sound of banging.
Again.
I shield my eyes from the sun streaking through the blinds and sit up with a groan. This is a different type of noise than the one that jolted me out of bed last night. It’s a steady hammering, followed by a high-pitched drilling sound.
Throwing on my oversized sweatshirt, I pad down the hall, but my feet falter at the top of the stairs. I squint to make sure I’m seeing this correctly.
The front door is wide open, the chair I had propped against it now lying on its side in the entryway. James kneels in the doorway as he drills a screw into my doorknob—a shinynewdoorknob.
What the…?
I trot downstairs, studying him as I approach. In the daylight, I have a much better view than I did in my dim hallway last night. His expression is a perma-scowl—dark brows pushed together, eyes narrowed and focused while he works.Is there a term for resting bitch face for men?Because he’d be the poster boy for it. Harsh, intense lines make up his profile, as if each detail was hand carved out of stone by an angry artist. Smooth, olive skin surrounds his dark features. He’s intimidating and beautiful at the same time.