Cole leans forward, resting his arms on his desk. “What am I supposed to do? I love the way I feel when we’re together. Her smell lingers on my clothes, and it drives me mad all day. I love who I am with her. Her words were the only ones that got through to me last night. If she wasn’t there, I think I would have killed York. She can bring me to my knees with one look, and her lips…” Cole stops when he notices his father’s expression.
“Welcome to being in love, son,” he chuckles. “Good fucking luck.”
Cole shakes his head.Oh, shit. I’m screwed.
“Even if that’s true, how am I supposed to be with her here in this house? The guys will lose respect for me if I get involved with one of our victims—I mean ‘guests.’ It’s a huge violation.”
“Yes, but if you truly are in love with her, you have to take the risk. Don’t let your job stop you from living your life. But that’s a decision only you can make. As for the guys, they’ll see you’re not in it for a quickie—never been your style—and we raised you better than that.” He smiles. “You both have some huge obstacles to overcome when she finds out the truth. It could be a game changer. What if she wants to go back to New York? This—” he indicates, waving his hands, “isn’t for everyone.”
“I know.” Cole tosses his pen aside. “For the first time, I’m totally lost on what I should do.”
“Take some time and think about it. It isn’t something you can decide right away. You’ve got a lot to deal with right now, and she’s not going anywhere.”
Cole nods and picks up his radio, changing the channel to seven. “You have visual?”
“Ten-four. She’s two-point-four miles west of the house.”
“She’s a little wanderer,” Daniel says with a chuckle.
“What’s she doing?” Cole asks, wishing he could see her.
“Sitting by the brook. Been like that for the past thirty.”
“All right, stay with her, but keep your distance.”
“Copy that.”
Daniel stands, tucking his hands in his pockets. “Come on, let’s go find your mom. She needs her Cole fix.”
Cole follows him out of his office. “So, tomorrow, Frank will be arriving with a few others to take statements. They believe York is tied in to the poisoning, but they don’t have enough evidence yet to charge him.”
“What time tomorrow?”
“Thirteen hundred.”
“Maybe we can get your mother to take the ladies into town to help get Savannah through this.”
“Yeah.” Cole shudders at the idea of Savannah leaving the house again, but it would be good for her to have some girl time.
Savannah
I close my eyes, feeling the thumping of my brain inside my skull.
Why was my father being blackmailed?Maybe he was involved in buying weed? If so, big deal; who isn’t? Christ, most of the people in politics have a hook-up.
The American’s history is something I can’t even process yet.
Then there’s York. Where is he downstairs? I thought I had seen the bottom floor. Would he really sell me out? He couldn’t hate me that much, could he? Maybe he was in it for money? Either way, I wish I could talk to him, find out what’s going on in his crazy mind. Is he the one who poisoned me? I never did hear if they found the how or why of it. I feel myself going into shutdown mode. I want to stop thinking at all, but I can’t help it. This is what I do when I suffer an emotional overload. I fight it, but it’s no use, and I feel myself drifting off to sleep.
I awake, suddenly shaking. I’m frozen to the core. Snowflakes prick my cheeks like tiny needles, one by one, bringing me out of my fog. When my eyes adjust, I see it’s getting late.
I have no idea how long I slept after mulling everything over. I’m still confused. I now realize there is way more to what happened to me than meets the eye. Problem is—I’m not sure I want to know all the details. Along with the truth come many lies, and I think it might be more than I can handle.
A rustle in the trees sounds to my left. I tense and then remember.
“Which one of you has he sent to babysit me today?” I call out, leaning my head back against the tree. Snapping twigs and heavy footsteps become louder as the tall, dark figure comes into view through the falling snow. “Ahh, are you here to slap a tracking device on me now?” I half joke, a little drunk off my emotions.
“Come on, Savi, it’s starting to snow harder.” Keith holds out a hand.