Kitabı oku: «Cold Case Secrets», sayfa 3
THREE
“Where are they?” Jacob shouted into his headpiece. He ran, pressing his body through the dense woods and keeping his weapon at the ready. The screams had stopped, but his heart was still rattled from the sound. No matter how many bloody crime scenes he’d walked through, grisly photos he’d looked at or difficult interrogations he’d conducted, the one thing that somehow always seemed to slip through the chinks in his cast-iron core and take him right back to being fourteen years old was the sound of someone screaming.
His sister, Faith, had fought for her life. That much he knew without a doubt about the attempted kidnapping that had ended her life. She’d thrashed, kicked and clawed at the would-be abductor. Her killer had strangled her and left her lifeless body there by the side of the road. But he hadn’t succeeded in taking her alive. No match had ever been found for the DNA retrieved from under her fingernails. But Jacob had never given up hope that it would and that, one day, he’d would have the satisfaction of knowing that the criminal who’d killed his sister had been sentenced to life in prison because Faith had died fighting him with every ounce of Henry blood pumping through her heart.
Jacob was the one who’d let her down. True, it had been their brother Trent’s responsibility to walk Faith home from school. But Jacob was the eldest and he’d been wrong to trust his younger brother to take care of something that important, instead of dropping out of track-and-field to make sure he did it himself. “Warren, tell me you’ve still got eyes.”
“Straight ahead,” Warren said. “A bit to your right. You should see them any minute now.”
What had he been thinking, leaving Grace alone like that? If she was now on top of the rock face, he imagined that meant she’d somehow climbed up from inside the crevice the moment his back was turned. And then what? And why? What possible reason could she have had for doing that? Did she think she knew better than he did? Grace Finch was more than challenging. She was trouble. And now she was going to get herself killed.
Another scream shook the air. But it wasn’t the desperate and panicked cry of a girl in trouble. No, this sound was determined, furious and angry, and something about it lifted his heart.
“Update?” he all but barked.
“Straight ahead!”
Jacob looked up as the trees parted and the top of the ridge he’d been following came into view. There they were, at least a story and a half above him. A bald and heavily tattooed killer named Victor Driver was holding Grace from behind, with one beefy, tattooed arm wrapped around her waist and the other trying to get around her throat. But she was fighting him, thrashing against his grip with all her might.
“Stop! Police! Let her go!” Jacob shouted. He raised his weapon. He’d aim for the shoulder or torso, hopefully taking the man down in a way that kept him alive to face justice. He’d take a kill shot if he had to and only as a last resort. But he didn’t have any hope of getting a clear shot as long as Grace was thrashing. Frustration burned inside him. Hadn’t she heard him? Didn’t she know he was there? If only she would go limp and give him a clean shot, he could save her life. Then it struck him—even if she knew he was there with a gun trained on her attacker, she might still try to take matters into her own hands.
He aimed high and fired. The bullet flew by barely an inch from Driver’s head. The criminal froze like an animal caught in the headlights. But Grace didn’t stop for a second, almost as if she’d been expecting it. She spun back with her elbows high and struck Driver in the face. The criminal bellowed and grabbed his nose. She broke free and pelted down the rock face toward Jacob.
“Jacob!” she shouted. “He’s got a semi-automatic! He just needs to reload!”
He ran toward her, reaching the rock face just as she got to the edge. She looked down. “How do I get down from here?”
“Jump! I’ll catch you!”
Her eyes scanned the drop and then her chin rose. “Okay. I’m coming!”
He shoved his gun back in his holster. She took a deep breath and leaped. He opened his arms and she tumbled into them, just as easily and smoothly as if she’d been made to be in them. Her hands latched around his neck. He held her tightly.
Grace Finch was in his arms...
“I’m sorry I left the crevice,” she said. “I just wanted to get a better look at what was going on.”
“That’s okay,” he said.
“Thank you for catching me,” she said and pushed back against his chest. He set her down. “He’s got a modified TEC-9. Don’t ask me how because he definitely didn’t take that off a guard. All I know is I don’t want to be here when he gets it working.”
“Me neither.” A weapon like that could shred the trees and take them down a dozen times over before they even known what hit them. And a serial killer and escaped convict had somehow gotten ahold of one? “Come on.”
Impulsively, he grabbed her hand. She let him take it and together they ran along the rock face.
“Kevin!” he shouted. “We need an airlift. Now.”
“Good!” Kevin said. “Because that ten minutes is running out fast.”
“Don’t remind me,” Jacob said. “We had a second criminal sighting—Victor Driver. Somehow he’s gotten his hands on a TEC-9.”
He could’ve done without the whistle Kevin filled his ear with.
“How’d he get an illegal black market semi-automatic?” Warren barked. “He must have outside help. There’s no way he lifted that from a guard.”
“Yeah, we know.”
“Are he and Cutter working together?” Warren asked.
“No clue. Just get us out of here, and I’ll fill you both in and call in the sightings while we’re in the sky.”
As much as he’d have liked to bring both Cutter and Driver back with him, saving Grace was enough. More than enough.
“Okay, there’s a sheer stretch of rock sixty degrees southeast,” Warren said. “I can lower the ladder there. Just follow the sound of the river.”
“What about the rescue basket?” Jacob asked.
“There’s something wrong with one of the tether points,” Warren said. “Ladder is safer.”
“Got it,” Jacob said. At least he already knew Grace was comfortable climbing, although a suspended ladder wasn’t exactly the same as the rock crevice. He ran with Grace by his side and her hand tight in his.
“Watch out!” Kevin said, “There’s another heat signature coming up on your right—”
But even as he spoke, he saw the stocky figure of Cutter ahead of them, a fresh gun clutched in his hand. His heart stopped. He had one convict ahead of them, one behind them, a forest to his right, a rock wall to his left...and a woman holding his hand who he had to protect with his life. Jacob pulled his weapon and fired, but not before Cutter was able to get off a shot of his own.
“Grace, get down!” Save her, Lord! Jacob leaped, throwing himself in front of Grace just as he felt the searing hot pain of Cutter’s bullet pierce his shoulder.
* * *
He’s been shot! Fear flooded Grace’s core, even as her body hit the ground. Jacob landed beside her, his cry of pain mingled with the sound of gunfire that still seemed to echo in the air.
Detective Jacob Henry had been shot.
She rolled, sliding her body out from under him as safely as she could without jolting him. Her eyes darted around the trees. She couldn’t see Cutter anywhere, but whether he’d been shot, run off or was just biding his time, he couldn’t have gone far. Either way, they couldn’t just stay here and wait for him to fire again. A large jagged rock, at least three feet high, lay to her right. She grabbed Jacob’s uninjured arm and crawled for it, half leading and half pulling him, feeling him crawl after her. They collapsed behind it and she turned to Jacob. He was lying on his side. Blood seeped from his right shoulder. “Jacob? Are you okay?”
“No!” He groaned. “I’ve been shot.”
She almost laughed at the sheer strength of the frustration in his voice. “Yeah, I got that. Tell me you’re left-handed.”
“Nope, sorry.”
“Do you want me to check it?”
“Not right now. Thankfully it’s just a graze.” He yanked a bandanna out of his pocket and handed it to her. “Bullet’s not in the wound. Tie this down over my arm right here, like a bandage, not like a tourniquet. Hopefully this will absorb the blood and help it clot until we get somewhere we can get it properly bandaged.”
She took the bandanna and tied it over his sleeve in the place he pointed. She could tell he was trying not to wince, even through gritted teeth.
“Where are you?” Cutter’s voice came from behind the trees. “Get out here! Show yourselves!”
“Sorry, Detective, but I’m borrowing your gun,” she said and yanked the weapon from his holster. She crouched on the balls of her feet, set Cutter in her sights and fired twice. He swore and disappeared into the trees. She looked back down. Jacob was saying something in his shoulder microphone.
He looked up. “Tell me you hit him.”
“I don’t know.” She scanned the woods. “But I can’t see him or hear him. Driver either. But he can’t be far behind. Tell me your guy’s ready with that helicopter.”
As much as she wanted to reach the cabin and get that information, escaping the shadow of her father’s blackmail was way less important than getting them both out alive. Cut bait now. Circle back later.
“Warren says that it looks like Cutter is retreating, Driver’s climbing down the rock behind us and that there’s a clearing ahead of us to the left. He’ll lower the rope down and collect us there.” Jacob started to pull himself up, then winced. She reached out her hand for him and felt his hand grip hers for a few moments as he climbed to his feet. Then he let go. “Now give me back my gun.”
She bit her tongue to keep from asking him why he didn’t just use Cutter’s gun, partly because every inch of his tone implied that now was no time to argue, but mostly because he’d taken a literal bullet for her. She handed him back his gun. He took it. “Now, come on. Let’s go.”
She ran, dodging between the trees with Jacob right behind her, expecting at any moment to hear gunfire behind them. The trees parted and a long open slab of rock spread out in front of her, making a smooth gray platform. She stopped short, her feet on the edge of the tree line. Once she ran out, there’d be no cover.
The roar of rushing water ahead mingled with the thrum of the helicopter above.
“Go!” Jacob shouted. “Trust me!”
A rope ladder tumbled down from the sky, dangling out over the stone ahead, promising rescue and survival. She gasped for breath and ran for it, feeling her footsteps slip as they crossed the smooth wet rock. She leaped for the ladder, gripped it tightly and started climbing, rung after rung, as it shook and swayed beneath her, tossing her like laundry in the wind.
For a moment, she thought she was going to fall. Then she felt the rope ladder go tight like she’d suddenly been anchored. She looked down. It was Jacob. He’d holstered his weapon and was awkwardly clinging to the rope one-handed below her. The helicopter rose, sending the ladder flying out over the raging water below. She glanced past Jacob to the river churning beneath them. Her stomach lurched. This was reckless. She couldn’t do this.
“Grace!” Jacob shouted. “Look at me!”
She clenched her jaw and shifted her gaze to the strong and determined face of the man beneath her. His eyes met hers, a reassuring smile crossed his face and she felt something like a light switch on inside her.
“You’re okay!” he shouted. “Just keep climbing!”
A spray of bullets ripped through the forest beneath them. The helicopter lurched upward, nearly throwing her into the trees. Jacob shouted in pain. Then as she watched, he fell backward through the air, tumbling down toward the river below. A scream ripped from her lungs. No! His body hit the water and went under. Her heart pounded. He couldn’t be dead. He just couldn’t be. The helicopter rose higher. Jacob’s body surfaced. Thank You, Lord! The spontaneous prayer surged through her heart, She watched for a moment as he swirled in the water, fighting one-handed against the current and struggling to shed the weight of his bulletproof vest.
Jacob had taken a bullet for her and now he was going to drown.
She glanced to the sky and the safety of the helicopter above. Suddenly the memory of being fourteen-years-old and watching her father run from the police filled her mind. No, she wasn’t like him. She didn’t run, not from someone who needed her, not to save herself, no matter what. Well, now was as good a time to try praying as any.
God, if You’re listening, help me save him. And get us both out of this forest alive.
She let go of the rope ladder and let her body fall toward the river.
FOUR
For a moment, there was nothing but a rush of air beating against her body and a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach as she plummeted through the air.
Help me! Please!
Her body hit the water with such a force and impact that, for a split second, she thought she’d missed the river and hit the shore. She was sucked under and the swirling rapids closed around her. Pain filled her limbs. Panic filled her chest. The water was so cold it seemed to cut through her, freezing the blood inside her veins. She forced her body back up toward the surface and gasped a breath of muggy air.
“Jacob!” she tried to scream, pushing her voice over the water’s roar. “Jacob! Can you hear me?”
But she could barely hear her own voice before water swept over her again, overwhelming her lungs. She coughed hard, fighting to breathe. The smell and taste of the river overwhelmed her senses. Water rose in dark gray-and-white-capped walls around her. She wasn’t swimming as much as fighting the current just to survive.
She was going to drown. She was going to die. And all to save some man she barely knew. What had she been thinking? Why had she done this to herself? She gasped a breath. No, she knew him. Maybe they weren’t friends. But she knew he dedicated his life to saving victims and putting criminals away. He was the man, who instead of running to save himself, had thrown himself in the way of danger for her.
All she was doing now was returning the favor.
The reason she’d let go of that rescue ladder and let herself fall hit her like a defibrillator jolt to the heart. Yeah, she’d had no idea it would be like this, how hard the fall would hit her or how violently the water would beat and batter her. But even if she had, it wouldn’t have stopped her. Because if it was like this for her, how much worse must it be for him?
She steeled herself and forced a deep breath into her core. For a moment, she swirled and scanned the river ahead. Then she saw an outcropping rock and brush jutting out into the river ahead of her, no more than a couple of feet wide. She swam for it. Her legs bashed against sharp stones submerged beneath the surface, her feet dug deep into the mud, her body draped over the tiny island and she clung there, letting fresh air fill her lungs as water rushed past her.
Now, come on, Gracey. What were you thinking, jumping off a helicopter ladder like that? A warm voice filled her mind that sounded like her mother. What did I tell you about never leaping into trouble for some man?
Grace laughed, even trying to imagine how she’d explain this to Mom and Frank when she made it back to Toronto. She could honestly say it made no difference that Detective Jacob was tall, handsome and not too shabby to look at. She’d have leaped to save him no matter what he looked like. Just as she knew he’d have done the same for her.
Thank You, God, that I made it this far. Now what?
She wasn’t exactly sure why she’d decided to try praying again. She’d given up on God long before her father had been carted off the jail because of how women at church gossiped about the fact that she’d been born before Frank and Mom got married. She’d been bullied for years by a couple of peers in her youth group and felt pushed to the outside of the social circle because of the circumstances surrounding her birth. At first, she’d tried rebelling, breaking every rule she could think of to spite the God she hadn’t even thought she believed in. But then after her father went to jail, she changed course and decided she’d be better. She’d work harder, achieve more, keep more rules and win more awards than every single girl whose judgmental mother had thought she wasn’t good enough to be her daughter’s friend.
But now she was scared, overwhelmed and really needed help.
Rock walls towered on both sides, lined with trees. Even if she could make it to shore, there was no way she could climb up there. Her only option was to swim down river, find a place she could make it to shore and then run down the bank, hoping to find him.
“Grace!” A voice filled the air—strong, and male, and utterly incongruous. “Hang on! I’m coming for you!”
“Jacob?” she called.
“Yes! Grace! Oh, thank You, God!” His prayer floated toward her over the water, so filled with relief she thought this wasn’t the first time since she’d dropped that he’d tried calling her name.
“Where are you?” she shouted. And wherever he was, did he really think he was in any position to rescue her? “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I’m just hanging onto a tree. You still in the water?”
“Yeah! Hanging onto a rock!”
“Keep hanging on! I’m going to figure out a way to come to you!”
Really? “How?”
“I don’t know yet!” His voice came back to her. “But I promise you, I’ll figure it out.”
That she didn’t doubt. Another laugh slipped through her lips. Not because his statement was funny. But because there was something oddly wonderful about the sheer determination in his voice. And somehow she knew that if she needed him, truly needed him, he’d probably drown trying to swim upriver with a shot arm before he gave up attempting to rescue her.
“How big is that tree?” she called.
“Pretty big,” he shouted back. “It’s split at the trunk but still anchored to the shore.”
“Big enough to support two people’s weight?” she asked.
“Yeah...”
“You hold on! I’m coming to you!”
“What?” he shouted. “Don’t!”
But she’d already let go. Immediately the water seized hold of her again, tossing and turning her around as it carried her away.
She swam downriver. Her energy was revived. This time she was prepared and her limbs were strong from years of swimming at Toronto’s Cherry Beach before work and canoeing alone in Ontario forests. Her determination was even stronger.
Then she saw him, sooner than she’d expected, just a few breaststrokes and a single turn of the river away from where she’d stopped. He was clinging with one arm to a long and thick pine tree that lay across the water like a bridge, anchored to the shore by a bent and split stump. About six feet of sheer rock face lay between the broken stump and the top of the ridge.
All right, she just had to hit the tree, make her way along it to the shore, then climb up. Easy.
“Inbound!” she shouted.
He turned and almost tried to reach for her, stretching out his one good hand as he leaned over the tree for support. She shook her head and steered out of his way. Her body hit the tree a few feet away from him, in between him and the shore. The tree shook under her weight. She grabbed on with both hands and turned toward him.
“Hey.” She gasped for breath. “So what’s the plan?”
Green eyes opened wide in a rugged face that was ashen pale. “Are you okay?” His voice was deeper and huskier than she remembered. “I saw you fall.”
“I’m fine,” she said. “But what about you? You fell—”
“It’s nothing.” He frowned. “A bullet pinged my boot. I momentarily lost my footing and my grip failed me. But it’s really not a big deal—”
“You were shot! And fell into a river—”
“And I’m fine.” His tone hardened. “Like I said, it’s no big deal.”
Did he think he was indestructible? Talking to him felt like they were two rivers battling to flow in opposite directions. “You’re clearly not fine,” she said. “You were—”
“Shot,” he finished for her. “Yes, I know. But it’s a flesh wound and I’m mostly fine. Why did you fall?”
“I didn’t fall—”
“I saw you—”
“I let go on purpose.”
He blinked. He stared at her, and his lips parted like he didn’t know what to say.
“I let go of the ladder on purpose,” she said again. “Because I saw you fall...”
Her voice trailed off. Why? Why was he looking at her like that?
“And so, you let go.”
There was a question moving beneath his words that she couldn’t quite decipher. “Well, yeah, you’d just taken a bullet for me. And I really didn’t want you to drown. So I let go and dropped into the water to help you. Then the helicopter left.”
Jacob’s mouth closed slowly, and for the first time that she could remember, the great Jacob Henry seemed speechless and not by choice. For a second, he didn’t say anything, neither did she, and instead they just clung there, side by side, gasping for breath as the water beat against them. And somehow she found it impossible to look away from his gaze. He was like no one she’d ever met before—ridiculously good-looking, impeccably professional, impossibly stubborn and all together infuriating. Back in the real world, there’d always been this weird and awkward tension that seemed to radiate off him, or maybe off both of them, whenever they came within a few feet of each other. Even suspended on a tree in a raging river, that tension hadn’t dissipated at all. If anything, it was as strong as it had always been. An unexpected laugh slipped her lips before she could bite it back.
His eyebrows rose. “What?”
She shook her head for a second and debated telling him the truth. Then again, if she couldn’t be honest with someone when she was suspended on a broken tree over a river with them after dropping from a helicopter, then when could she? “It’s just that I’ve been fighting for just five minutes of your time for months and now we’re stuck together.”
His gaze drifted up to the sky and she wasn’t sure if he was praying, searching for the long-gone helicopter or very slowly rolling his eyes. Possibly all three. The tree creaked beneath them and she wondered for the first time how it was managing to stay rooted with the weight of two people dragging it down.
“We need to get to shore,” he said finally. “Do you think you’ll be able to slide your way along to the rock and climb up?”
“Yeah,” she said. “Can you?”
To her surprise, he smiled, very slightly, like he wasn’t used to anyone talking to him like that. But all he said was, “Yeah, you go first. I’ll follow. As long as we stay close, our combined weight should stabilize the tree and keep it from moving too much.”
Okay then. She slid along the fallen trunk slowly, moving hand over hand along the slippery bark and kicking her legs to fight against the current as it threatened to yank her down.
“Don’t worry,” Jacob said. “Don’t overthink it. Just keep moving. I’m right behind you.”
He clearly didn’t know just how much overthinking was her strong suit. But somehow something about the simple sound of his voice encouraging her helped her block out the pain in her limbs and the relentless pull of the water. She gritted her teeth and focused on the rock. The tree rose higher and, for a moment, she felt her legs leave the water. But then she felt the comforting and stabilizing weight of Jacob beside her, rooting the tree beneath them and helping her regain her balance. She reached the rock wall and looked up. The sun had almost set and the steep granite gleamed in the muggy air. It was slippery, it was steep, and her arms and legs were already aching so hard she couldn’t even imagine how she was going to make it up.
“It’s okay.” Jacob’s voice was comforting, solid and strong. “You got this. You’re going to hoist yourself up onto the tree, climb up the rock and be just fine. I’ve got total faith in you.”
He did—she wasn’t sure why he did. She believed him and what’s more, she knew he was right, in a deep core way that completely bypassed her logical brain. The ever-pressing need to ask why niggled at the edges of her brain, but for once she pushed it away and told it to wait until she was back on dry land.
“You got this,” Jacob said again, and she suddenly remembered he was the big brother of at least one other sibling, who also happened to be a detective.
“I know,” she agreed. Was this what having an older brother was like? “Just haul myself out of the water onto the log, climb up the rock and I’m home free.” Or at least back on dry land and out of the water.
She took the deepest breath she could and pushed her body up out of the water, grasping onto the splintered stump. Her legs swung into the air. Her arms screamed in pain from the pressure of supporting her weight. Then she half slithered and half crawled her way onto the stump.
“Good job!”
“Thanks.” She didn’t look back and fought the urge to tell him she didn’t need a cheerleader. It’s not like his encouragement was hurting any. Slowly she climbed on top of the fallen tree, digging her feet in beneath her as best she could and started climbing up the rock face, grasping onto jutting rocks and handfuls of scrub, until finally she felt the top. She slid onto the forest floor, gasped a breath—Thank You, God!—and prayed without even thinking.
“You okay?” Jacob’s voice came from beneath her.
“Yeah.” She sat up, slid to the ledge of the rock face and looked down. Jacob had already half hauled his body out of the water and was now draped over the edge of the tree, looking up at her. “How about you? How are you going to climb up that with one hand?”
His eyes scanned the slippery rock face. “I’ll figure it out.”
She twisted her lips in thought and looked around her. There was a thin but strong looking tree by the edge she could’ve anchored a rope to, if she’d had one. Her belt was leather and pretty sturdy but not long enough to lower down. Her backpack was all the way back upriver tucked inside her grounded canoe, near where she’d first been grabbed by Cutter. She could hear Jacob below her, struggling and grunting as he tried to climb up.
“Hang on,” she called. “I’m just going to try to find a way to help you up.”
“I’m okay,” he shouted back.
She shook her head. “No, you’re not. Just give me—”
Then she heard the crack of wood, loud and deafening, Jacob shouting and then a splash.
* * *
Pain seared through Jacob’s shoulder as the full weight of his body fell into the grip of one hand. The loss of footing had been sudden, as the tree beneath him finally split free from the rock face and tumbled into the water. Now his feet scrambled in vein for any foothold on the slippery stone where the tree had once been. His fingers screamed in pain as his grip threatened to falter. Time ticked past in agonizing seconds.
“Grab my hand!” Grace’s voice above him was strong and sharp as a command.
He glanced up. Grace was hanging over the ledge. Her hands reached out toward him.
“I’ll pull you over!” he shouted.
“I’m fine!” she shouted back. “I’m anchored to a tree. Just do it!”
But how big was the tree? How well was she anchored? How much weight could it hold? There was no way she could be strong enough to support him. If he gave in and grabbed her hand, who’s to say he wasn’t going to yank her over and then they’d both drown? It was bad enough she thought she had to leap from a helicopter for whatever misguided reason.
The pain in his fingers grew. She lowered herself over farther until he felt her hand brush his.
Help me, Lord! What am I going to do?
“Jacob, come on!” she shouted. “I need your help to get out of here alive. If you let yourself drown, then what happens to me?”
She grabbed his hand and held it firm. He let go of the rock and clenched her hand. For a moment, he thought they were going to slip from each other’s grasp. But then she latched her second hand around his as well, holding his hand in both of hers.
“You won’t be able to lift me!”
“Then use my arm like a rope and climb up,” she grunted. Her breaths were shallow, and he had no doubt her arms and back were in agony. “Your legs still work, right?”
He laughed, not that he meant to, but because she was utterly infuriating, and not entirely in a bad way. White-capped water churned beneath him. He swung his legs up and planted them against the rock, hearing her almost yelp in pain at the sudden shift in weight. But all she said was, “Don’t let go!”
He suspected she had no idea how extraordinary she was.
In six long painful steps, he was up. She helped haul him over the ledge. He crawled over, let go of her hands and then collapsed on his back. He stared up at the sky, wishing beyond any reasonable hope for the sight and sound of Kevin’s helicopter. Instead, dark clouds filled his gaze. Wind shook the trees around him. Pain radiated through his body and shot through his shoulder, mingled with overwhelming gratitude to be back on dry land. Grace collapsed beside him and they lay there, side by side on their backs, panting and gasping on the muddy ground. Her arm brushed against his unwounded one and rested there. Somehow the slight touch reminded him of what it was like to be sitting beside a girl as a teenager, so close their shoulders touched, and trying to get up the courage to hold her hand. Not that dating had ever been a serious possibility after Faith had been killed. Grief had collapsed on top of his family, threatening to destroy them all under its weight. His parents and brothers had needed him to help keep them all together. So he’d quit hockey and soccer to be home more after school. He’d taken on a weekend job at the local supermarket to help with the household bills. Even as, in the past two years, he’d watched first Trent, then Max and finally Nick find strong, beautiful and amazing women to spend the rest of their lives with, he’d never felt the longing for a partner to share the load, join his life or even hold his hand. Not until now. And he didn’t know what to make of it. He didn’t take her hand. He didn’t even let his fingers brush against hers. And yet he didn’t move his arm away. Neither did she.
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