Page 12 of InfraRed

Krista was released on bail yesterday after being ordered to surrender her passports. I know Liam was informed, so I know he told Casey.

“I’m not here to see Mom.” She knew what I was thinking without me saying it, and I hide my smirk because she proves her little theory about not knowing each other wrong. “I knew she wasn’t here. Mrs. Lovitt told me she went shopping.”

“With what money?” I mutter. Casey’s head tilts as questions light up her face. My lips press together as I silently curse my slip. She has no idea about the financial situation around here. Granted, Dad isn’t flat broke. His portfolio brings in an adequate amount, but it’s a far cry from what he once had, much less enough to fund his wife’s spending habits. “Then what brings you here, Sunflower?”

Her mouth twists to one side then the other, eyes darting around, picking at nonexistent lint on her hoodie. I hope she doesn’t think she can wait me out because I could stand here forever and just look at her.

My little sunflower has no idea that even though I avoided being in the same place as her, I’ve still watched her from a distance. I was at her high school graduation. I have been to almost everyperformance she’s done with the university and the two small community performances, and I get notifications every time she posts on social media. Hours have been spent staring at her photos like some stage five clinger.

“I need to speak with Maxwell.” She surrenders when she realizes I’m not budging—from the topic or the exit. “And I come once a week when I know Mom won’t be here to see Noah.”

I’m not shocked. I suspected she came around to see her baby brother. Even if I weren’t technically stalking her, I would expect it. It’s who Casey is.

But I am curious when she finally decided to get space from her mother. I have an idea, but I want to hear it from her, so I ask.

There’s that mouth twist again. Any time she’s contemplative—or avoiding—she chews on one side and then the other. “I-uh… When I found out she was setting my dad up for the baby,” she finally admits. “Sh-she used me to do it. I’m… I don’t want to be a tool in her arsenal against him anymore. Without me, she can’t hurt him.”

So, it’s about Liam. It’salwaysabout Liam.

I get it. She loves her dad as she should, but this goes deeper. Her thoughts are always on protecting him, never herself. She has no sense of self-preservation at all, and it makes me crazy. I hoped she would’ve outgrown this martyr complex by now, but I suppose it’s too deeply ingrained in who she is. It’s why she needs someone to balance that. If she won’t protect herself…

I need the subject to change fast. Krista alone is enough to piss me off, but I’m not Liam’s biggest fan, either. Especially not after hisrequestlast week.

I clear my throat, shaking away the burn of irritation in my chest. “Dad won’t be back until late. He had some business to handle today.” Business that the succu-bitch should be part ofsince it’sforher, but it seems she can’t be bothered. Casey blows a breath, those fringe bangs waving with the effort. Her hands scrub roughly over her face as she grumbles an annoyed, tired sound.

I push away from the doorframe, crossing the space between us. My fingers wrap around her slim wrists, pulling her hands around from her worn face.She is too damn young to look this tired.“Is there something I can help you with?” When she doesn’t answer, I offer a lopsided grin. “If I remember correctly, I used to be pretty good at helping you out.”

A hint of a smile plays on those narrow lips, a pink pout puckering a bit, emphasizing how her bottom lip is a bit fuller than the upper. They shine- with whatever she put on them. Taunting. Begging me to…

“No.” The word makes my eyes snap to hers. I don’tlikebeing told no, but it helps me to focus on the problem instead of the path my mind was taking. “I’ll have to come back another time.”

Unable to resist, I tuck a fallen strand of hair behind her ear, then trail my fingers over her jaw. “Try me. I’m sure I can help.”

A light blush tints her cheeks as her eyes dart between mine. She steps to the side, trying to appear casual, but her uncertainty shows. And I’m biting back a growl because I donotlike her avoiding my touch, either.

I don’t like her avoiding me at all. It makes me feel… homicidal.

Dammit, is this how she’s felt all this time? Not knowing how fucking obsessed with her I am? Having no clue that, despite staying away from her and ignoring her calls and messages under the guise of being busy, I still knew her every move. I never invaded her privacy or anything, but I had ways of ensuring she was cared for—of knowing what was happening in her life, even who was part of it.

It wasn’t part of my plan, but I couldn’t stay away and not know. I may even have aslightproblem, but until last week, my justification was I was keeping my promise even if I wasn’t physically near her. Then Liam made hisrequestand threw a wrench into my excuse.

She stops at the bar, and I shove my hands in my pocket, watching to see what she does. Crystal clinks as she gets a glass. My curiosity piques when I see her lift a decanter, remove the top, and pour. Her head tilts back as she downs the contents in a single swallow. Then she turns around and props her hands on the bar behind her. “What?” she questions at my lifted brow. “It’s not like you didn’t drink at my age.”

“No judgment.” I lift my hands, palms out toward her, with a smirk.

“Yes, you are.” She points and grins, showing me those cute-as-hell dimples for the first time in forever. “It is written in your judgy eyebrows.”

“Judgy eyebrows?” My mouth twitches as I fight my grin.

“Yep. Especially the right one. It goes all pointy.”

I chuckle, crossing the room, erasing the distance she tried to create. Her cheeks get redder with each step as she watches me finish undoing my tie and remove my suit jacket, tossing them both on a chair, then roll up the cuffs of my shirt. “I’m not judging the drinking, Sunflower.” I reach around her, intentionally brushing my arm against hers, making her shiver.Gotcha, Sunflower.I grab another glass, fill them both, and hand her one. “But I am curious when liquid courage became necessary to have a conversation with me.”

“I told you—”

“Strangers make you uncomfortable, which I already knew, but, Sunflower, we’ve known each other too long to ever be strangers,no matter how much time has passed. Be honest with me. What’s really going on?” Her mouth presses into a thin line, and I know she will not change her story. And apparently, I’ve lost my mind, or the devil on my shoulder told the angel to fuck off because I toss back the liquid in my glass, set it down, and take her glass from her. Then I bring the crystal to her lips and turn it up. Her eyes grow wide, blinking rapidly as she swallows. When the last drop is gone, I place the glass behind her, bring my thumb to the corner of her mouth, collect the spilled liquid, and wipe it away. Her mouth falls when I bring the drop to my own.

If she wants to lie to me—claim her skittishness is because she’s uncomfortable, then I’ll give my pretty little sunflower a reason to be uncomfortable.

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