Page 28 of Not Your Little Girl Anymore

Although he doesn’t move his eyes, his smile sends a clear message. Silence falls again, and I hate that he hasn’t said much. It’s slightly aggravating.

“You sort of met my father. What makes you think I won’t call him and tell him you’re watching someone else’s house?”

“Because I know you won’t.” He then side-eyes me quickly before rolling his eyes back to the house.

My eyebrows fall, and I open my mouth to say something, but I’m not sure what to say. So, I close my mouth and think, trying to figure out how he could assume that I wouldn’t call my dad when we barely know each other.

The car is quiet except for the faint sound of our breathing. I keep my attention solely on him, trying to understand him. All the while, my mind races with a million thoughts.

Maybe he really is a serial killer, after all.

He sighs as if he can sense what I am feeling and looks at me. “I knew your father was a cop.”

“You knew?” My eyebrows shoot to my hairline. “So, let me get this straight. You knew my father was a police officer, and you still decided to talk to me, take me for coffee, and now sit here where we could potentially wind up with a restraining order?”

“Yeah.” He says it as if I shouldn’t be surprised.

Well, I am. I am very surprised.

When he looks back at the house, my eyes follow. He lifts his tattooed arm and points. “Right there is the biggest secret I have.”

A middle-aged woman with curly light brown hair opens the door to usher another woman into the home. From where we are parked, I can see her mouth lift into a smile before stepping outside and getting into the SUV parked in the driveway. Alec watches as this woman backs out of the driveway and drives in the opposite direction from where we are parked.

“Who’s house is it?” I ask curiously.

“My aunt’s,” he says without hesitation. His head turns towards me and then he leans back enough so that his arm can grab ahold of the baby doll and stroller he purchased at the store. “Are you ready?”

I swallow, still unsure what we’re doing. If this is his aunt’s house, why do we have to be sneaky? Something isn’t adding up.

“Do I have a choice?”

He smirks. “Everyone has a choice. Come on.”

We get out of the car, and I trail behind Alec as he jogs across the quiet street. The sound of his sneakers pounding on the pavement is the only sound I hear. We reach the driveway, and the scent of freshly cut grass fills my nose as we walk toward the back of the house and stop at the back door.

I don’t understand why we don’t just go to the front, but I think it’s safe to say that I should ask questions later. With the toys cradled in one arm, Alec raises his other arm to knock on the door.

Seconds pass before the woman who entered through the front door appears, her fiery red curls dancing in the wind from the short breeze. She peaks her head out, looking from one side of us to the other, worry crossing her features.

She steps aside for us to pass. I follow Alec.

As soon as the door closes, the woman says, “Alec, if I lose my job because of you, I swear to God I will hunt you down.”

My eyes narrow, and I glance back and forth between them, hoping for someone to give me an explanation about what the hell is going on. But I don’t get one.

“Terry, I promise it’ll be quick this time.”

Terry rolls her eyes, and a soft pitter-patter of footsteps sounds through the house as a little girl runs from the living room into the kitchen where we are.

“Alec!” she shouts.

Alec turns his body and crouches down to her level. She jumps into his arms, wrapping her tiny arms around his neck. Her long hair tickles Alec’s nose, and she giggles.

I watch carefully, still uncertain.

“Hey, peanut. Happy birthday,” Alec says, eagerly waiting for her reaction to the toys in his hand. “I didn’t have time to wrap it, but I hope you like it.”

Her eyes shoot open, and a huge smile is pasted across her face as she grabs the baby doll and hugs the box.

---