Page 95 of Drifter’s Heart

I nod, the best I can give to him. “It’s okay.” It’s not. “Look after Lanie and your own.” I need my girl back.

The lies I tell my brother to keep him functioning while my own loss consumes me and I stand here, doing nothing while inside my head, I’m screaming.

“Where, Lanie?”

She looks at me blankly, the eyes of a woman who has experienced trauma but hasn’t processed it yet.

I smile gently at her. “Is it the house on the hill? The one with the garden?” I know, because the asshole sent me pictures. Bragging will cost him.

“The hill.” She shudders. “I walked so far. So long. But…”

“Get her water,” I murmur, stroking her arm. “West. There’s Hydralyte popsicles in the freezer. Get Lanie one of those.”

I get a grunt in way of reply.

Cord grips his woman fiercely, his hand on her belly and his arms wrapped around her. He’ll make a good father. I know he will. I’m proud of my brother, and I’m proud of her.

I’m sorry, she mouths, but I understand. I do. I kiss the top of her head and pray that Cord is occupied as I slip the keys to his truck from his pocket.

Then I walk out of my door, which rarely locks and only sticks when I don’t want it to, and onto the street front. No one hears me when I pull away in Cord’s red six-wheeler that will take me where I want to go.

No one sees me leave to get my daughter.

The white picket fence is a lie. Just like the iceberg roses and the calla lilies that alternate all around the perfectly manicured square of lawn. Actually scratch that. I feel like the perfect square is a tell. There isn’t a blade of grass out of place. Something about the more perfect the exterior, the worse a mess the inside a person is. I wonder if that applies to a perfect-looking, oversized suburban house. If it does, then Brad is as tarnished on the inside as humanity can possibly be.

This week alone proves my judge of character is the poorest out there. West and Cord have been nothing but generous with their time and love. For so long I didn’t trust either of them. Now I’m seeing the truth too late.

I put my trust in the wrong man long ago and the price tag has been higher than I ever expected. I can accept the cost to myself, even though I shouldn’t. My mistake, and my payment. But Lanie? Hell, no, and Sally…

A hiccup erupts in my throat and I swallow hard, sliding out of my brother’s truck. Part of me wants to trounce across the garden, but West is right: Brad is so far from being in his right mind that he’s unpredictable. Or maybe he’s predictable in his unpredictability? I don’t know enough about the psychology to guess at his next actions. I wish I did.

Instead, I walk through the tiny kissing gate, letting it close gently behind me, and up to the front porch.

And knock.

“Any more of these today and I’ll be the Knock-Knock Queen,” I mutter under my breath.”

“Are you selling something?” Brad appears on the other side, holding the door open like he’s been waiting for me to arrive. “You’re⁠—”

“Late, as always,” I finish for him, and smile. If he wants to go nuts, I’ll bring the crazy to him. Today will end, but not the way he expects. Too many lines have been crossed. “Let’s move right along, then.” I walk inside his house without removing my boots.

Clump, clump, clump.

My footsteps are too loud in the empty space that’s half-furnished.

“Love what you’ve done with the place.” I don’t stop, even when he does. “Are we going out the back? Chop-chop.”

Something flickers in his pale gaze when I glance over my shoulder at him. Annoyance, surprise? I’m not sure. I don’t really care, either.

“This way.” His calm demeanor is back, a mask I don’t know. Unnerving. “Sally is sleeping.”

Fuck. You.

Ice douses my veins at his words. He wants me to run. Chase him. Scream and be crazy. That’s coming. My own brand of madness rises to combat his. Brad plays games, and I’ve been his unwilling participant for years.

I follow him to a small living area. Sally is curled at one end of a loveseat. Her legs are tucked up as she lies on her side, her hands tucked under her face, like a sleeping angel.

And she’s pale.