Page 122 of Sterling Heat

“A deal? I’m telling you I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know about any money.”

“Maybe your boyfriend took the money after all.”

Sebastian? Slowly it occurs to me that the break-in at my house had nothing to do with him and everything to do with me. This man is after me because he thinks I know the whereabouts of money my brother had.

“Sebastian didn’t have anything to do with Seamus.”

“He killed your brother,” Rodger bluntly reminds me. “Maybe he was using you to find the money in this old house.”

I don’t believe it. Sebastian explained his history with drugs. He told me what happened because of his sister that night. He might have beat my brother, but Sebastian did not have an ulterior motive. He was not a thief. He was not greedy. And after the various ways he has treated me with his generous, sweet spirit, I will not believe he had malicious intentions toward me. He might have been malevolent in the past, but he wasn’t that man in the present. He couldn’t be that excellent of an actor to fake all he’s expressed toward me.

Sebastian loved me. He loved Adara. I felt that truth in my soul.

It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in love, it was that he loved too hard. That’s what scared him. He didn’t trust love. He didn’t trust himself.

He’d been a stupid kid with good intentions. He’d wanted to help his family. Provide for them. He’d been a wayward adult, lost and hotheaded. His final act had been in defense of his sister. For a man who claims he doesn’t want a family, he’s put them first in every warped decision he’s made, time and time again.

Oh, Sebastian.

My doorbell rings and I glance at the small monitor on the counter near the sink that shows me who is on my front porch. The camera is a new installation from the alarm company, that allows me video footage around the house.

Vale.

“Ignore her. Pretend you aren’t home.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. She can see me sitting here.” Can she see him? He senses the question and tucks closer to the cellar door, placing his back to it and tipping back his head. He curls his fingers into fists and beats one gently against the barrier at his back. He’s hidden from view unless someone were to round the back of the house.

Please let someone do that soon.

However, my position, seated on a kitchen stool, with my back to the front bay, can be seen through the sheer curtains over the window that overlooks the front porch.

“Lose her.”

This is my chance. I slowly stand, and Adara squawks. She’s hungry but I need to get us out of the house.

As I round the staircase on the right, Rodger rounds on the left through the dining room and catches up to me, stopping me directly behind the front door. “Open it slowly. No funny business.”

With his hand on the knob, he turns it and taps at my foot, making it an unconventional doorstop that prevents the door from opening all the way. Half my body is covered by the front door. Something pointed presses at my side. Does he have a knife? Glancing downward, I notice the long, sharp object just above my hip. He holds steady while his other hand remains on the doorknob, ready to shut Vale out.

“Vale.” Her name is high-pitched in my strained voice. Sweat beads on my forehead. My body suddenly trembles even more so than earlier. With the door only partially open, cutting half of me out of view, Adara is uncomfortably close to the edge. And too close to the knife at my side. My hand covers her back as she begins to cry.

“Hey.” Vale’s brows pinch at my awkward position. “The Sterlets were missing you, so I thought I’d bring the book club to you.” She holds up a bottle of wine. No book in sight.

I’d forgotten tonight was book club.

“It’s not really a good time.” Adara screams louder, like she’s been pinched, or she knows we are in trouble, and because I can’t scream for help, she is. I bounce, jiggling Adara up and down. A deep squat of my knees makes me look like I’m doing a poor imitation of the chicken dance. I even flap my elbow which makes no sense as I try to soothe Adara. I’m hoping my discombobulated movements appear highly unusual and thus suspicious to Vale.

“Why? Is my brother in there?” Vale wiggles her brows, scandalously teasing me as she tips on her toes to look over my shoulder.

Subtly, I shake my head, very aware of Rodger’s presence hidden behind the door, with a knife at the fleshy part above my hip. His head tips to its side against the door.

Adara cries harder. A full-on wail as if he pinched her.

“Maybe I could help with Adara.” Vale’s gaze drops to the baby against my chest, jostling up and down as I awkwardly bend my knees and flap an elbow. I’m tempted to hand Adara to Vale and tell her to run with my child.

“She needs Auntie Vale time. I heard Knox is trying to one up all of us.”

“I’m not alone,” I blurt.