Page 146 of Rescued by the Single Dad

Inez’s head shook stiffly. “No. It’s too late for that. You’re not going to help me. Not now that I’m holding a gun on you and you know that I framed that guy for trying to kill you. You’ll turn me in. Just like you turned in your dad. You don’t care about anybody else but yourself. Meanwhile, everyone fucking loves you. I fucking love you.” Tears rolled down Inez’s face, making tracks through her foundation.

Brooke’s heartbeat thrashed violently in her ears. She couldn’t hear the surf below. Couldn’t see anything beyond Inez’s wild eyes and the barrel of the gun pointed at her.

“Inez ...” Brooke held out her hands. “Please, don’t do this. Give me the gun. I ... I won’t turn you in. I promise.”

Inez’s head shook again, her gaze darting frantically.

Brooke was taller than her assistant and more muscular, too. She also trained in hand-to-hand combat for a few of her movies. But there was a real gun involved here. Not a prop gun, or a gun with blanks. She wasn’t confident in her abilities enough to try.

Inez had her trapped. Between a fall to her death on the rocks below and a bullet in the head.

A weird flash near the car drew her attention. She glanced over, sly enough that Inez wouldn’t notice. There, hidden just behind the log fence, was Clint.

Relief flooded her veins until she felt dizzy.

How? How did he know where to find her?

And more importantly, how was he going to rescue her—again—without getting himself hurt?

Her mind instantly went to Talia.

That child did not need to lose another parent.

And she wouldn’t.

Not over Brooke’s dead body.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

“You know we could figure it out, right?” Jagger said to him as they stood in the foyer, the door still open. The kids had gone back to the table to continue making bracelets, their conversations sad and mostly about Brooke. “If you love her, if you want to make a go of it with her, we could figure it out. All of us.”

Clint shook his head. “She doesn’t belong here.”

“Did she say that? Because I’m pretty sure she fucking does.”

“Talia already got hurt once ...”

“Because we didn’t have proper security in place and the world went apeshit when Brooke resurrected from the dead. Let things cool down for a few weeks, a month, and people won’t be hounding us anymore. And if they are, we up security. Not a biggie.”

Clint pulled in a deep breath, scrubbed his hand over his scruff, and exhaled loudly. “What if she starts to hate it here? Resents me?”

“She’s not Jacqueline. You saw how much she loved it here from day-one. Jacqueline didn’t. She never considered the island home. Never got comfortable. She was always complaining, always looking for more excitement and a way off the rock. It seems like Brooke is trying to escape some of that excitement. She wants calm in her life.”

“Did you get a weird vibe from her assistant?” Clint asked, changing the subject as alarm bells started to quietly ring in the back of his head. They were getting louder, though.

“A bit abrupt, but I just took that as someone from the city. Not a lot of manners. Go-go-go.” He tugged on his beard. “Why?”

“I just got a weird feeling about her. She looks an awful lot like Brooke, right?”

“Aren’t all women in L.A. blonde?”

“No.” He elbowed his brother. “But the eyes, too. Didn’t she have brown eyes when she showed up here last week? And in that video you sent me.” He answered his own question. “I’m pretty sure she did. Her hair was a darker shade of blonde, too. Now it’s the same fucking shade as Brooke’s.”

“Okaaayyy ... what are you getting at?”

Just then, Clint’s phone buzzed in his pocket. It was Sergeant Fox.

Those alarm bells in his head were now deafening.

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