Page 51 of Hidden But Not Safe

Naz had thought the same. Sometimes he still thought it. But the fact that Meg felt that way was all kinds of wrong in his head.

“No.”

He blinked in surprise; he hadn’t had to think his way through saying it.

Meg turned her head on the headrest, her amber eyes holding an exhaustion he didn’t like. “Not really your choice, Ignacio.” She squeezed his hand one more time before her fingers eased their grip, unlinking from his.

Naz didn’t like the way his hand felt without hers—like it’d grown cold.

“I’m sorry, you know.” Meg didn’t look away. “It’s not that you did anything wrong. I hope you know that.” She turned to face the window, and he missed seeing her eyes. “The opposite. You’re the only good thing in this whole goddamn world.”

The words almost sounded like a compliment, but if they’d been a compliment, she wouldn’t still feel so far away.

He put the minivan in gear, aiming them toward Diego’s newest job.

The two-car garage was easy enough to pull into, but when Naz parked next to an SUV, there was no Diego in sight. Naz shut off the van and closed them in before eyeing the door to the house.

He moved back to the driver’s side, looking in at Meg.

“I assume you want me to stay here. Do your thing.” She closed her eyes, resting her head in the curve of the seat.

Her hair fell across her face. He had the urge to push it back but turned away instead.

Naz approached the inner door, listening, but there were no sounds from within. He opened it instead of knocking.

Inside, Diego was sprawled out in his desk chair, the top section bent back as far as it would go. He swayed back and forth while he rubbed the back of the child lying on his bare chest. His tatted-up hand looked dark against her back but also gentle. He looked better than he had the last time Naz had seen him. Exhaustion still made the skin beneath his bloodshot eyes dark, but he no longer had that dullness to him that had been there before.

The screens in front of Diego were dark.

Naz was sure he hadn’t made a sound, but Diego swung his chair around anyway, relaxing again as he saw him there.

He gave a nod in greeting, but the child on his chest took up the space that created, interrupting the gesture. He smiled, his eyes softening.

“About damn time,” Diego rumbled in a low rasp. “Did you bring the diapers? This one already peed on me once today.” His hand continued to rub the small back as if he wasn’t even mad about it.

Naz nodded.

Diego pointed a finger toward the far wall. “Stack them up there. I’d help, but the imp finally passed out, and I’m not waking her up for anything.” He snuggled his cheek against the top of her head, and Naz’s own scalp tingled as he gaped at the man.

It took a few trips for Naz to bring it all in. Meg’s eyes never opened. It looked like she’d really fallen asleep. Maybe she’d been unable to sleep without him as well.

The toddler never woke up either. She looked vaguely familiar, and Naz realized he’d seen her through cameras not that long ago. Curiosity rose inside him, but it’d be too hard to ask the questions.

“That’s a lot of fucking options,” Diego mumbled as he stared at the different boxes of diapers.

Naz shrugged.

Diego chuckled. “Must have been weird as hell, buying all that. Thanks. I need one more thing.”

Naz waited.

Diego lifted his hand, swiveling in the chair to point at the equipment scattered there. “I can’t leave to set it up. Remember what I’ve shown you?”

Naz hesitated, then nodded. Placing the cameras themselves was usually easy enough.

Instead of crossing to grab them, he moved to the garage door. Watching Meg’s slow, steady breathing through the windshield eased something inside him. He typed out a message on his Notes app, opened the door, and placed the phone on one of her thighs in case she woke up before he returned.

It went dark, but Meg knew his code already. She’d be smart enough to check it and stay put. Meg didn’t make a lot of mistakes with the business side of things, besides those couple of times she’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

---