Yates Carter
Dahlia’s gaze filled with confusion and caution. My eyes ran over the way she bit down on her plush bottom lip, making me consider leaning forward to nip the injured skin. I wanted to punish her for keeping shit from me.
It was probably the healthiest option of how to handle my frustration with her. My frustration with her attempting to keep shit from me. I knew everything about Dahlia Aldridge. Things that she would absolutely never want me to know. It didn’t stop my stalkerish tendencies—in fact, in some ways, it only encouraged them. The woman was a beautiful puzzle, and I planned on collecting every single piece.
It was the only way that I could keep someone as complicated and perfect as Dahlia. On my own, without all the knowledge I had about her, I was far too fucked up to keep her happy. I knew that about myself. I was a complete asshole. I had very few redeemable qualities, but I had made it my fucking mission from day one to keep Dahlia safe, and I didn’t care how skilled I had to become at everything, from computer coding to hiding fucking bodies, to do it.
I was fucking furious someone dared to hurt her like this.
Unlike normal, my rage was ice cold, and I somewhat felt like King and I had switched positions. He was extremely worked up, and I knew seeing her pale and sick-looking in bed had done a number on him. I just felt cold. A cold fury that was completely centered around fixing this.
Later. I could let myself get worked up over it later, but someone had to have their shit together right now. My eyes ran over Dahlia’s frame perched in my lap, knowing that she would help me get over it ten times fucking faster than I would by beating the shit out of someone. I wondered how she would react if I told her that.
I was concerned that my emotions were going to make way for something far more dangerous than usual. I didn’t want to scare my little bunny, her form curled up against me, as I considered all the ways I wanted to sink my teeth into her and devour her. My fingers brushed against her back as she trembled slightly. I’d seen the caution in her gaze when I’d first called her over, feeling the shift in my temperament, no doubt, and I didn’t blame her one bit. I would never hurt her, but I honestly wasn’t positive what I would do to anyone else at this point.
“What do we need to talk about?” she asked, her voice a bit shaky.
I had felt like something was wrong all day. I hadn’t slept because of it, and instead had spent most of the morning burying myself in work and hoping for the best. Unfortunately, the FBI files had distracted me enough that the portion of my attention that was usually dedicated to all things Dahlia had faltered for all of an hour or so. It was enough that when I began to receive alerts about her popping up in search engines and being mentioned on social media, I had felt my heart freeze over.
Then I had realized exactly what was going on, and all I could think about was getting that shit taken down as fast as possible. I had prayed she wouldn’t see it, but I also hadn’t assumed we would be that lucky. We hadn’t been, and I was starting to realize that unless I was constantly tuned in to Dahlia, something bad could happen at any given moment.
It was an instinctual feeling and probably why I monitored her to such an insane extent. More so than even King knew. For one, I had a camera in her bedroom. It was fucking wrong, and usually I didn’t use it… well, that wasn’t completely true. Sometimes I watched her sleep to assure myself that she was safe. I also had monitors on all the doors and windows of her room. I knew all the houses had robust security, but it felt better knowing that I had my own.
Although, I did also have access to all of the cameras within her house. Sometimes I would find myself just watching her sashay through the halls, in a bikini, looking absolutely happy and at peace. It was probably why I got jack shit done when I was supposed to be working.
I had a tracker in her purse.
Unfortunately, I was thinking I needed a better option, because she didn’t use it nearly as much I would have assumed.
I had tried to put a tracker on her phone, as well as attempting to share her location with me, but whenever I was around, she kept her phone hidden. Probably because she knew I would do anything to break into it and confirm what I had already known. That Dahlia was fucking hiding something.
But now she had admitted it, and while I was pissed, I was far more interested in how she would react about what we had hidden from her. My fingers gently wrapped around the back of her neck as King offered me a look, and I tried to communicate that he was the one that needed to fucking handle this. I felt bad, because I could fucking tell he was close to losing his shit.
“This past year, we were contacted by the FBI about a possible drug issue within Camellia,” King explained quietly, Stratton’s frame shifting in slight surprise. I had tried to keep him in the loop as much as possible, but I had always been partly aware of his situation, and while I respected that he was doing what needed to be done, we needed his help now. So he would need to catch up quickly.
Dahlia set her fork down and frowned. “The FBI?”
King nodded, watching her expression, and I nearly sighed, realizing he was going to be far more delicate with this than we had time for. I turned her chin slightly and began explaining.
“We have been collecting information on people in this stupid fucking town for years now,” I leveled easily. “They knew that and contacted us regarding who we thought could possibly be responsible for the opioid issue.”
Her mouth popped open slightly as she nodded. “Okay… I have so many questions.”
“Later,” I assured her, smiling slightly, knowing that ‘later’ would be right after this and I’d better get comfortable because Dahlia wouldn’t get off my lap until she had all her questions answered. Something I was perfectly content with—in fact, I somewhat preferred it. Maybe I would even bargain with her while she ate.
I continued, “This morning, we received a list of possible suspects and one of them on there was Robert Brooks.”
“Oh, wow.” Her eyes went wide in understanding.
“So do we think they are somehow involved? I mean, I was serious about thinking she’s the one bullying me—there are a bunch of different reasons, but part of it is that she was really pissed when I told her to leave us alone before the holidays. The other part is that she wants you guys.” Her scowl was adorable as her nose twitched. “But to be involved in a drug trade? That’s insane.”
“They think their father is somehow working for Dixon Glenn, who escaped federal prison a while back,” Kingston leveled.
“So what do they want you guys to do?” She looked between all of us.
“Nothing yet, but the fact that Abby has targeted you only makes me more concerned,” Lincoln voiced finally, both of the twins seeming to be a million miles away. I knew what had happened today had really fucked them up.
“Okay, so what Max was saying earlier is making a bit more sense—”