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My gut twisted as he ended the call, worry darkening his eyes.
“That was Gwen. Daisy never came home last night.”
The basement air turned heavier.
Daisy. Sweet, tough Daisy, who’d never found an animal she didn’t love. She and Gwen had just gotten married last year.
Fuck.
I grabbed my phone off the counter and pulled up the camera feed I used when I wasn’t home, hidden ones that kept Sienna safe without her knowing just how deep my obsession ran.
Relief hit hard when the image loaded.
Sienna sat at our kitchen table, her legs tucked beneath her in that oversized sweater she loved while she cradled a mug. Marvis was across from her, talking animatedly with her hands. Sienna smiled at something she said.
She was safe.
I locked the screen and looked up at Ryder. His jaw was tight, his eyes cold with the same fury I felt coiling in my gut.
“I need your help looking for her,” he growled. I nodded once, already reaching for my jacket.
“Let’s go.”
CHAPTER 43
SIENNA
Isat cross-legged on the bed, the case file spread across my lap and my highlighter poised mid-air as I tried to focus on the deposition transcript. The words blurred a little. I’d been at this for a few hours, but I forced myself to read the same paragraph for the third time. Delaney had dumped this one on me yesterday with a wink and a “you’ll do great, honey,” like it wasn’t a messy custody battle that could go nuclear if I missed a single detail.
The house smelled amazing, even from up here, of garlic and rosemary, something rich and Italian bubbling on the stove. Marvis had insisted on cooking tonight despite the fact that she was supposed to be off, claiming she needed “therapeutic chopping.” I’d happily surrendered the kitchen.
A muffled shout drifted up from downstairs.
I frowned, the highlighter pausing. It wasn’t loud…more like a sharp yelp cut off fast, but it didn’t sound like Marvis singing off-key to her playlist.
Maybe she’d burned herself or something. I should go down and offer to help.
I set the file aside, swung my legs off the bed, and padded barefoot down the hall. The floorboards creaked under me, familiar and comforting, the way this house had started to feel since I’d told Sterling everything.
“Marvis?” I called, rounding the corner toward the stairs. “You okay down there? Smells like heaven, by the way.”
No answer.
I took the stairs slower, that prickling awareness creeping up my spine—the one I’d never quite shaken since Boston. The one that whispered, listen closer.
The kitchen light spilled warm into the hallway, but the living room beyond it sat dim, shadows pooling in the corners.
“Marvis?”
Still nothing.
My pulse kicked up, but I forced it back down. This was Blackwood. My home now. Sterling’s home. I was safe.
Even if whoever had been secretly taunting me hadn’t been caught yet…
I stepped into the kitchen and frowned. The stove was on, sauce simmering, but the spoon lay abandoned on the counter, red splattered across the white tile like someone had dropped it mid-stir.
The back door stood open a crack, enough for the cold night air to slip in, carrying a faint metallic tang. Or maybe that was just my imagination…
