“Vicki wasn’t just a sister to me,” I say. “She was five years older, and more like a mom than my own mother was. I used to be able to go months without thinking about her. Then I caught a case that hit a little too close to home. Now my whole life revolves around finding out who’s killing these girls, and it takes me back to the day I found Vicki. I can’t sleep without dreaming of seeing her there on the ground, eyes staring up at the canopy.”
“Cal, I’m...” Holly squeezes my hand. “I’m so sorry I asked—”
“It’s all right.” I stroke her cheek. “It’s something I would’ve told you eventually. But you see, that’s why I didn’t want you to know the details of this case. Knowing that kind of evil exists in the world, it changes you. The day I found Vicki, something dark clawed its way inside me. A demon, for lack of a better term, consuming me.”
“But you’re not like that,” she says, frowning. “You’re a good man. You’ve been nothing but kind and generous toward me.”
“That’s because I’ve learned to keep him in check. And it took a long time to learn how to do that without drowning him with booze.”
“How do you drown him out now?”
“Working keeps him at bay. When I got put on leave, I thought, shit, this is it. I’m falling off the wagon.” I pull her tight against me, speaking softly in her ear: “Then I heard your voice, and I saw you, touched you. Knowing I had to take care of you gave me the strength to drag that fucking demon back down into the deeps.”
She presses a kiss to my neck. I smooth my hand over her hair, basking in the heat from her body.
“I won’t let him hurt my baby,” I whisper.
“Daddy...” She sighs contentedly as I stroke her back, a gesture meant to comfort her that ends up lulling me into a welcome sense of contentment. “Can we...”
Her voice is so soft, I almost mistake her words for a sigh.
“What is it, baby girl?”
“Never mind,” she says. “It’s nothing.”
I guide her back a few inches so I can see her face.
“Doesn’t sound like nothing.”
She bites her lip. “I just wish I had my kitten.”
“That’s all?” I stroke her cheek. She nods. “Then we’ll stop back home and get her.”
“No, it’s silly. I don’t want to make you drive all the way back there.”
“It’s not silly. And you’re not making me do anything.” I kiss her softly and then help her off my lap so I can buckle her back into her seat. “We’ll pick up your kitten and then put some food in your belly. Sound good?”
“Yes, Daddy.” She rests her hand on my thigh. I squeeze the steering wheel as my cock swells in my jeans.
We might have to pause for a quick game of Guess What’s in Daddy’s Pocket before we grab that bite to eat.
As we pull up to a parking spot a few spaces away from my apartment, my gaze snags on the front door like skin on a fishhook. “Baby, did you forget to close the door behind you when we left?”
“No, Daddy,” she says, still firmly settled into her little-girl headspace. “You let me go through first, remember?”
I do remember, and there’s no way in hell I wouldn’t have made sure the door was locked before we left.
Holly unbuckles her seatbelt. I reach over and grasp her hands.
“Don’t get out,” I say.
“Why not?”
A shadow moves across the front window.
Someone’s in my apartment.
Chapter Eighteen
Caleb
I cut my truck’s engine, open the door slowly, and step down onto the asphalt.
“Stay here,” I tell Holly. “Keep out of sight.”
“What is it?” She ducks down, her wide eyes glinting with fear.
“Just stay down, baby. I’ll be right back.”
I close my truck door quietly, then skirt around the neighboring cars and run until I’m backed up against the building. I brandish my nine-millimeter. As I inch closer to the front door, I notice the handle’s been bashed with something. A rock or a club, or perhaps the butt of a heavy firearm.
Steeling myself, I ease the door open and peer inside my apartment. I don’t see anyone. Just a few torn-open boxes and my laptop bag upturned—
My laptop bag. It’s empty.
Movement draws my attention to the slip of hallway past the kitchen, where the washer and dryer live. I hear the screech and glide of a window being pushed open, the bang of something kicking at the screen.
Gun raised, I run toward the far side of my apartment in time to catch sight of a dark figure slipping out the window.
“Freeze motherfucker,” I shout. I holster my gun so I can pursue him through the opening, sliding one leg out the window, then the other. I struggle to get the rest of my frame through the tight fit. Whoever this asshole is, he’s fucking skinny.