Written With You Page 12

  Nothing like an overdose of fear and adrenaline to put life into perspective.

  “Caven,” she whispered, covering my hand at her thigh. “I’m okay. Really.”

  And she was.

  This time.

  Using her wrist, I guided her hand with the ice back to her cheek and rose to my full height. “I’ll be right back, okay? Shout if you need anything.”

  She nodded, and I felt her gaze track me as I walked to the front of her car with Ian on my heels.

  Careful to keep my voice low, I rumbled, “What the hell happened here?”

  His jaw got tight. “Some douchebag Hadley stole a flash drive from wants it back. Snatched her ID, roughed her up, then took off when he saw me.”

  “He took her ID?”

  “Gave her two days to find the flash drive. My guess is he plans to pick it up in person.”

  Molten lava hit my bloodstream. “Fucking Hadley.”

  “Basically.” He moved in close. “Look, we have to figure out this shit with her identity. After this crap, it’s not safe for her to be walking around as Hadley Banks. Who the hell knows who else that woman could have pissed off. She’s been dead for over eight months and this guy is just now coming back for something she took? For all we know, it’s going to be a never-ending parade of idiots wanting their shit back.”

  A heavy weight settled in my stomach as I looked at her back through the windshield. “She told the cops she was Hadley, didn’t she?”

  “Legally, that’s who she is now. The cops are pulling security footage of the attack, but Willow doesn’t know who he was and he took off on foot. I’m not holding out a lot of hope they are going to catch this guy. At least not in the next forty-eight hours. She can stay with me for a couple nights, but—”

  My head snapped back to him. “The fuck she can. You’ve lost your damn mind if you think I’m letting her go home with you.”

  The side of his mouth hitched. “Wow. Do I sense some jealousy there?”

  “It’s not jealousy, you ass. The woman has just suffered a traumatic event. It would be cruel to let you bore her into a coma.”

  His smile flashed full blown. “What are you going to tell Rosie about her staying the night?”

  “You think she’s going to ask any questions when I tell her Willow’s coming for a sleepover? We’ll all be lucky if we escape with our eardrums intact. Besides, it’s not Rosalee I’m worried about convincing.”

  As though she’d heard our conversation, she turned and looked at me through the car. Her gaze hit me like a tangible weight, but it was the anxiety carved in her face and the cop standing beside her that got my feet moving in her direction.

  “What’s going on, officer?” I extended a hand his way. “I’m Caven Hunt. A friend of Ms. Banks.”

  He shook my hand but looked at Willow. “We don’t have a lot to go on here. We’ve put his description out to the city and all the surrounding counties. I’m going to be real honest with you here. The fact that he didn’t take anything other than your driver’s license is what I find the most worrisome. We can increase patrol through your neighborhood in case this guy decides to pay you a visit, but I’d highly advise that you don’t go home for a few days while we try to figure this out. Do you have somewhere safe that you can go for a few nights?”

  I slid my hand under the back of her hair and curled my fingers around her neck. “She can stay with me.”

  “Caven, no. You don’t have to do that. I can stay with Beth.”

  I gave her neck a squeeze. “You could. But remember what I said about you being surrounded by paramedics and police. I’d feel a lot better if you were under my roof with my security system tonight.”

  She bit her bottom lip and looked to Ian.

  Ian. Like he was suddenly her keeper and not mine.

  He winked and tipped his head toward me. “I don’t think this is the box you think it is.”

  What the fucking hell were these boxes they kept talking about? And when had they become winky, she-can-stay-at-my-place friends? What the hell was he even doing at the grocery store with her that day?

  I swung a scowl between the two of them, but it was erased when Willow lifted her gaze to mine and asked, “Can we grab some things from my place first?”

  It should have been relief that swelled in my chest.

  Relief that she wasn’t going to argue.

  Relief that I might actually be able to sleep that night without having a nervous breakdown.

  And relief that I wasn’t going to have to kidnap her and hold her hostage at my house for a few days.

  But fuck me, all I felt was excitement that I’d get to spend more time with her. I hated the reason, but while having her in my house for a few days sounded like torture to one side of my brain, it also felt like a winning lottery ticket to the other.

  “Yeah, babe. We’ll swing by your place.”

  The cop nodded. “I’ll have a cruiser follow you. Just in case.”

  We waited twenty minutes for the police to finish up with the paperwork. Willow alternated between hanging her head and forcing a smile for anyone she caught looking her way.

  She was shit for an actress though. She wasn’t going to make it much longer without breaking down. And damn if I didn’t want to get her the hell out of that parking lot so she could have that moment in private.

  Well, private with me.

  When it was all wrapped up, at least temporarily, Ian offered to drop Willow’s car off at my house and catch a cab back to get his own. She didn’t argue or offer anything more than a resigned, “Thanks, Ian.”

  In a true show of maturity, I only contemplated breaking his fingers for a second as he pulled her in for a side hug and whispered something into her ear. She smiled up at him, sad and wholly broken, then gave him one of her signature forearm squeezes that were usually reserved for me. Okay, so I’d lied. I’d contemplated breaking his fingers for two seconds. But I didn’t follow through and that’s all that counts.

  The police had bagged her purse as evidence, so when she climbed into the passenger seat of my SUV, she did it with nothing but her phone, a small makeup bag, and an empty expression.

  “You okay?” I asked as I pulled out of the parking lot with a police car on my tail.

  “I’m gonna need to get back to you on that.”

  I grinned. “You need to dry-heave?”

  “Ummm…” She dropped her head back against the headrest. “That has yet to be determined. But have no fear—I promise I won’t do it in your car.”

  I chuckled, thankful that she at least still had a sense of humor, one that I’d missed greatly over the last month.

  “My studio is filled with shit,” she told the windshield.

  “What?”

  “Yeah. My contractor sucks and sewage backed up into my studio this morning. I had a plumber come out and fix it, but it’s still a mess. And it’s going to smell like shit forever because Hadley was a klepto who couldn’t keep her damn hands off people’s stuff. Now, I have to go to your house and I won’t even have a chance to clean it, which means I’m going to have to tear out the entire mural of unicorns Rosalee helped me make. I don’t believe in ghosts, Caven, but I think there is a very real possibility Hadley has come back from beyond the grave just to screw with me.”

  “Okay,” I said calmly.

  She turned to look at me. “None of that’s okay, Caven.”

  “Yeah, it is. All of that’s okay. Because right now, you’re sitting in my car a little banged up, a little shaken, but you’re safe. And we’re going to get your stuff and head back to my place. Rosalee is going to summon all the dogs in the neighborhood with her scream when she finds out you’re spending the night. I’m gonna order dinner from somewhere that has brownies and ranch, and we’re going to sit on the couch and not talk about Hadley or the mall or anything else for one goddamn night, because tonight, we are living in the seconds. And in this second, Willow, you are okay. We can fix the rest of
it.” As I rolled to a stop at a traffic light, I propped my hand on the center console and turned to face her, daring her to argue.

  She stared back at me, her eyes filling with tears.

  A million words hung in the air between us.

  Apologies.

  Accusation.

  Blame.

  Guilt.

  Love.

  But all of that could wait for another second.

  Because right then, for the first time in over a month, I had hope that maybe we really could fix the rest.

  “Okay,” she whispered, sliding her hand across the console and inching under my index finger so just the tip rested on the top of hers. “But I want carrot cake and french fries.”

  I tapped the top of her finger. “Then tonight, while you eat carrot cake and french fries, I will be the one dry-heaving.”

  She smiled with quivering lips. “Who said anything about dry-heaving?”

  WILLOW

  “Daddy says you have to hold the rail when you go down the stairs,” Rosalee said so close to my face that her eyeball was all I could see. She leaned to the side to get a better view of my bruise. It had to have been at least her tenth inspection of the night.

  “And clearly he’s right.”

  I hadn’t been sure what to say to her when we’d arrived and she’d asked me what had happened to my face. The last thing I wanted was for Caven to see me lie again. But the kid was four. She didn’t need to know that some guy had attacked me in a parking lot. Or that he was looking for her mother. And she definitely didn’t need to know that there was a very real chance that he was going to come looking for me again. Thankfully, Caven had jumped in with an elaborate story about shoestrings and tripping down the stairs. It ended with a moral and everything. Seriously, his dad level was epic.

  “Did you get to pick purple?” she asked.

  “No. That’s just what color bruises are. Black, blue, purple, and sometimes green.”

  “No pink?” she whispered, thoroughly offended as she lifted her finger to trace around the edge. Again.

  “Don’t do it,” Caven scolded as he walked into the room wearing the universal hot-guy sleeping attire of gray sweats and a plain white tee. He set a glass of water and two Tylenol on the end table next to me and hooked his daughter around the stomach, plopping her on the middle cushion of the couch while he settled on the other side of her. “Quit touching her face. A bruise is an ouchy. You wouldn’t like it if I was poking at your ouchy, would you?”

  “I was being careful.”

  “Careful is not touching it.” He kicked his feet up onto the coffee table and nabbed the remote. “What are we watching tonight, Willow?”

  It was a miracle, but I wasn’t even breathy as I replied, “Oh, um, it doesn’t matter. Whatever.”

  He shot me a teasing glare. “You do know that if you don’t pick something we have to watch the Animal Channel, right?”

  “Yesssssss!” Rosalee hissed.

  God, I loved her.

  I loved this.

  The casual comfort of three people just lounging on the couch. In recent memory, I’d never been that happy before.

  I wasn’t hiding a ticking time bomb.

  I wasn’t pretending.

  I wasn’t lying for the sake of someone else.

  I was Willow Banks sitting on Caven Hunt’s couch. With his daughter. My niece. The only remaining member of my family. It was all so perfectly boring that it wasn’t even worth noting.

  And that might have been what made it the most noteworthy of all.

  “Then I guess we’re watching the Animal Channel,” I said, flashing him the most genuine smile that had ever crossed my lips.

  She bounced in her seat as Caven groaned. He wasn’t the least bit annoyed though. Based on his subtle smiles, he loved the monotony almost as much as I did.

  We were absolutely living in the seconds that night.

  I’d thought it would be strange to be at his house again. But from the moment I’d walked through the door, everything had felt right.

  After inspecting my face the first time, Rosalee had cornered me with a box of crayons and a mountain of coloring books. Caven had attempted to come to my rescue, but after the day I’d had, sitting at his dining room table and quietly coloring with the girl I loved most in the world seemed like the best way to unwind.

  Much to my surprise, Caven didn’t hover. Well, at least not over Rosalee. I’d caught him creeping on me several times when he’d thought I wasn’t looking. I had no idea how he did it, but the moment my ice pack would start to warm, he’d magically appear with another one. Thanks to his constant care, the swelling on my cheek was minimal. But given the ache behind my eye, I had a sneaking suspicion the bruising wasn’t going to cooperate as nicely.

  Hence the Tylenol and water—another of his magic tricks.

  Caven proved his experience by clicking exactly two buttons on the remote. When two lizards duking it out appeared on the screen, Rosalee squealed almost as loudly as she had when she’d learned we were having cake and french fries for dinner.

  Caven grinned down at his daughter before he turned his attention on me. “Did you talk to Beth?”

  Boy, had I talked to Beth. First, she’d screamed at me when she found out I’d gotten attacked and hadn’t called her. Then she’d screamed in surprise when she found out Caven showed up pulling the Alpha routine. Then she’d screamed again when she found out I’d agreed to stay with him and hadn’t packed the first piece of lingerie. Then she’d told me to call her the minute we finished having sex. I assured her Caven and I weren’t having sex that night, or likely ever again. So then she screamed at me for being so blind. Finally, I hung up on her and put my phone on silent. I did not need to be reading into his White Knight act and this sleepover any more than I already was.

  I avoided eye contact as I replied, “Yeah. We…uh…talked.”

  “Good, I know she was probably worried.”

  Yes, that I didn’t bring the appropriate sleepwear to seduce you. I laughed awkwardly. “Yeah. She was. It’s all good now though.”

  “Listen. I found a cleaning company to go over to your studio in the morning.”

  The side of my mouth hitched. I wasn’t surprised. I’d heard him on the phone while I’d been coloring a field of one-dimensional daisies. It was still crazy sweet that he’d taken the initiative to help me. The sewage in my studio was far from my biggest concern, but I liked that someone cared.

  No. Strike that. I liked that Caven cared.

  “Thank you.”

  He slid his arm behind his daughter and across the back of the couch, capturing a lock of my hair. He rolled it between his thumb and his forefinger. “I also found a restoration company that will cut the mural out and seal it so they can reinstall it when the cleaning and repairs are finished. If you give me the keys, I’ll go over there in the morning and let them in.”

  First, he’d saved my life. Then I’d lied to him for months. And now, he was letting me stay in his home, with his daughter, and sending cleaners and a restoration company out to my house. I did not deserve that man.

  Though I didn’t exactly have him, either.

  There were over six thousand languages, and while I only spoke English and broken Spanish, I could have known them all and still not have been able to find the words to adequately express my gratitude. So, as the guilt crashed down over me, I took a play from Caven’s playbook. “I’m so sorry.”

  The muscles at his jaw twitched. “Don’t do that. Not tonight.”

  I had no idea what else to say, so I said nothing.

  The hum in my veins sang as I stared at him, remembering the boy and then the man who had once given me his body. First with a shared bullet. And then years later with a night wrapped in each other’s arms.

  But he wasn’t mine.

  Even if I had always been his.

  “Awww, why doesn’t she want a hug?” Rosalee asked.

  I glanced up in
time to see a lioness fighting with a lion attempting to mount her.

  “Because that is how you should act any time a boy tries to hug you,” Caven replied.

  “What about Jacob?”

  “Especially Jacob.”

  I giggled, and while he didn’t look at me, I saw his lips twitch.

  He clicked the remote just before the lion was successful. “I think we should pass on TV tonight. It’s been a long day. Maybe we should all hit the hay.”

  “You got hay?” Rosalee asked.

  “No, baby. It’s a saying. It means go to bed for the night.”

  She tilted her head to the side. “In the hay?”

  “No hay. Forget I said anything about hay. Let’s just go to bed.”

  She sighed, scrambled off the couch, and tugged on my arm. “Come on, Willow. You can sleep on my tremble.”

  Caven stood up with her. “Nope. Willow isn’t sleeping on your trundle. She’s staying in the guestroom, like I already told you.”

  “Whyyyyyy?” Rosalee whined.

  “Because I said so. Now, go brush your teeth and I’ll be up to read you a book in a minute.”

  My heart could not take the cuteness as she crossed her arms over her chest and glared at her father. “I want Willow to read me a book.”

  “Then I suggest you drop the attitude and ask Willow to read you a book.”

  My gaze jumped to his, emotion swirling in my chest. He was going to let me read her a book. It was something so small, but to me, it meant so much.

  “Will you read—”

  “Yes,” I replied immediately. “Absolutely. Whatever book you want. I’m there.”

  “Good, I’m going to pick a really, really long one so maybe you’ll fall asleep like Daddy does and then you won’t have to sleep in the stinking guestroom.”

  I gasped and clutched my chest. “The guestroom is stinky? What’s it smell like?”

  “Like brown. It’s all brown.”