Page 197 of Perfect Pitch

I burrow against him. “I wish she still was.”

His arms band around me so tightly, I’m afraid he might crack a rib. “I know, Beats. I do too. But you’re alive and as much as I would have wanted our child, I’ll get down on my knees to thank God he spared you.”

I lift my head and search out his eyes in the room. From the moonlight shining through the windows, I can make out his features. He’s completely serious. I touch his lips uncertainly. “It truly was a lie to protect me? You... care?”

“Care? God, Austyn. I’d give my life for one moment of your happiness.” His face contorts, the agony so reminiscent of my own when I first left New York, it smooths over the cut of that wound like a salve, even as I know nothing will ease the pain of having our child taken from us.

I lean down until I can hear the perfect cadence of his heartbeat in my ear—a pitch I’ve missed for too long. Tears leak from my eyes and drip down onto his bare chest. “I’m sorry I didn’t answer,” I say, referencing the phone calls and texts.

He brushes a kiss on the top of my head. “I hurt you. I just wanted a chance to explain. I didn’t realize until it was too late and Charlie had spirited you away.”

I frown. “How did you put together who was with me?”

“Kane knew I couldn’t let it—you—go. He contacted a friend of his. At the same time, my bosses were running a side investigation.”

I lean up. “Why?”

He runs a finger down my nose. “Because as smart as you were to take security, you asked Charlie. Your father apparently wondered if Charlie was good enough to be protecting his little girl.”

I gape at him.

While I do, I feel his hand slip down to rest on the side near my stomach. “Will you tell me how it felt to have her grow inside you? Did you ever feel her kick?”

I nod. Before he knows what’s happening, I prod his abs. He jerks back and frowns. “What was that for?”

“That’s what Columbia felt like the first time I felt her kick.” There’s more than a trace of sadness in my voice. “There’s so much I remember, Mitch.”

Then, I share the moment my soul shattered. Stiltedly, I give him every thought, every movement. In a hushed whisper, I confess, “Was I lying to myself? Would I have kept trying if I couldn’t have reached the knife the first time? Sonia thinks so. It’s why she kept me in therapy so long. I felt like I had nothing to live for. I’d lost the last piece of our love because I ran.”

“Because I drove you to it.”

“Mitch, that’s not why I told you.”

He silences me with a brush of his thumb across the tears pooling at my lips. His own eyes are dripping steadily. “Christ, Austyn. I have to hold you.” Mitch hauls me up his chest so he can bury his face in my neck.

I wrap my arms around him and hold on tight while he cries out the pain of knowing. It isn’t just the idea of losing the baby—what could have been. It’s the knowledge that but for the mercy of an angel, and it not being my time, I wouldn’t be right here. Right now.

Finally, exhaustion overwhelms us. We fall asleep tangled in one another, our bodies finding a respite. Our hearts already have acknowledged the avalanche of pain is something we have to tackle together.

* * *

CHAPTER NINETY-SIX

PRESENT DAY

Kensington strode into the offices of her lawyer, Carys Burke-Lennan, wearing a gorgeous summer suit that showcased her signature style.

—Eva Henn, Fashion Blogger

“All signs point to this being an old stalker of Beckett’s. Since I specialized in this work for the force and still have plenty of colleagues there, I’ve called in a few favors,” I explain to the group at large as I pass out a top sheet about the stalker profile.

Beckett grunts, but one thing he knows I take very seriously is his daughter's welfare. He flips the file open with a snap, but his irritation at having me present dissipates when he sees the information I’ve collated in the file. His head jerks up. “All this evidence, and no one can get a lock on this bitch?”

I shake my head. “Each time the evidence is circumstantial.”

“The motherfucker”—he winces when Paige slaps him upside the head—“better not come near me or mine, Mitch.”

“Too late.” I reach over and turn to the last section—Austyn’s condo—before shoving the file back in his direction.

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