Page 127 of The Rogue

No response.

I shove off the couch and pace the living room.

Maybe it’s the thrillers I’m reading. Maybe it’s the fact that a dangerous man is believed to be lurking around Hideaway Springs, waiting to make his move. Or maybe it’s just paranoia, but I’mshakingwith fear that someone took him.

Lilly.

My mind spirals.

Levi told me she’s pulled him out of school before, what if it was her? They wouldn’t release him to her, so she must have grabbed him from the yard before he even had a chance to go inside.

That’s got to be it.

I’m trembling as I dial Levi’s number. He’ll drive to the school and check. It’ll be fine.

“Hey, love,” Maggie’s sweet voice answers.

“Mag? Did I call the wrong number?”

“No sweets, the boss left his phone here. He’s been a little on edge lately and forgetful.”

“He has?” This is news to me. He’s been so calm and laid back since I moved in.

My heart sinks.

Of coursehe’s on edge. He’s been holding it together for my sake. While simmering on the inside.

“Just the last week or so. Probably the season change and the events coming up.”

Or me. It’s probably me.

“Thank you, Maggie,” I whisper, feeling like I’ve lost my voice.

Fuck it.

I grab Levi’s car keys. Since I had to abandon mine outside of town the night Frank sent his team for me.

I step out the door. Kenny is in front of me in a flash, his impressive biceps bulging from under his black T-shirt.

“I need to…pick up my kid from school.” I don’t have the energy to explain what’s really going on. He doesn’t need to hear the Lilly drama.

“Levi is busy and they won’t release him to anyone else.”

He stares at the keys in my hands, then motions to the car. “I’ll go with you.”

I give a curt nod and head for the driver’s seat.

Ten minutes later, I pull up to the front of the school. “Wait here. They won’t let you in.” And the last thing I want to show this private school is the continued family drama of Levi Reeves’ new wife needing security detail.

He glances at my left hand then nods. “Go ahead. I’ll be here.”

I sigh with relief. “Be right back.”

I slip out and race down the well-paved walkway to the main entrance. I hold up my driver license to the camera and hope it doesn’t get picked up on any illegally monitored surveillance.

I’m buzzed in and race to the front office.

The middle-aged lady at the desk scans me skeptically. “You’re…Tessa? We have you down as an authorized pick-up. Are you Jackson’s nanny?”

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