Page 22 of Bringing Home the Bad Boy

“We found them.” Chen’s radio crackles to life with my father’s voice. “Miller’s Inn off Route 40. They’re having breakfast in the dining room. Rosa’s car is in the lot.”

Trace is already moving. “On my way.”

“Wait.” Lowe’s voice cuts through the radio. “Let me handle this. We don’t know what a cornered person might do—”

“She won’t hurt Jelena.” Trace snatches up his keys. “But you showing up with a badge will only make things worse. Her husband was killed by a cop. She has no love for law enforcement.”

Silence crackles over the radio. Then Lowe’s voice, tight with new understanding: “You’re saying I’ll make her nervous.”

“I’m saying let me talk to her.” Trace’s voice breaks. “Please. She’s family. She’s hurting. The last thing she needs is an officer walking in there.”

I grab my purse, already moving toward the door. No way is he doing this alone.

“Fine.” Lowe doesn’t sound happy. “But I’m coming too. I’ll stay back unless needed.”

The drive to Miller’s Inn is the longest ten minutes of my life. Trace’s hands are white-knuckled on the wheel. I reach over, covering his right hand with mine. He doesn’t acknowledge the touch, but some of the tension leaks from his shoulders.When we pull into the lot, I spot Rosa’s car immediately. Throughthe diner’s big window, I can see them. Jelena is happily eating pancakes, syrup smeared across her chin. Rosa sits across from her, head bowed, hands wrapped around a coffee cup that has to be cold by now.

“Let me go first,” Trace says as we get out of the car. Lowe nods, staying by his cruiser.

I follow Trace into the diner, my heart in my throat. The bell above the door chimes, making Rosa’s head snap up. The look on her face – fear, guilt, desperation – makes my chest ache.“Rosa,” Trace says softly.

And that’s when the tears start falling.

The tears roll down Rosa’s cheeks as Jelena spots Trace and squeals, “Daddy!” She scrambles down from her seat and runs to him.

“I’m sorry,” Rosa chokes out. “I wasn’t thinking straight. I just… everything was changing, and I got scared and—” She covers her face with her hands. “I was bringing her back. I swear. I just needed a minute to breathe. To pretend nothing was changing.”

Trace scoops up Jelena, pressing a kiss to her sticky face before setting her back down. “Did you have good pancakes, princess?”

“With extra syrup!” Jelena beams, oblivious to the tension. “And Auntie Rosa let me have chocolate milk!”

“Baby, why don’t you show Noel your pancakes?” Trace’s voice is gentle, but his eyes never leave Rosa. Once Jelena is settled with me at the counter, he slides into the booth across from Rosa.

“Talk to me,” he says softly. “Really talk to me.”

“I’ve lost so much.” Rosa’s voice cracks. “My husband. My home. And now… now it feels like I’m losing my place with Jelena too. I know it’s not rational. I know I was wrong. I just panicked.”

“You’re not losing your place.” Trace reaches across the table, gripping her hands. “No one could ever replace you in Jelena’s life. You’re her Auntie Rosa. Always will be.”

That’s when Lowe steps forward, his face set in hard lines. “This is still kidnapping,” he says, stepping forward once Trace has Jelena secure in his arms. “I have to take you in.”

Rosa’s tear stained face hardens. “Of course you do. Because everything’s black and white for men like you, isn’t it? No room for human feelings in your precious law books.”

“The law exists to protect people.” Lowe’s jaw tightens. “Especially children.”

“Protect?” Rosa laughs, but it is a broken sound. “Like the law protected my husband? Shot dead for reaching for his wallet?”

I watch Trace’s face change. He steps between Rosa and Lowe. “She had my permission to take Jelena anywhere in town. This isn’t kidnapping. She’s family.”He says, daring anyone to contradict him.

“That’s not how it works—” Lowe starts.

“That’s exactly how it works.” Trace’s voice is steel. “Are you telling me every time a trusted family member takes a kid to breakfast, they’re kidnapping? Because that’s not what the law says.”

Lowe’s eyes narrow. “She texted you that she was taking the child.”

“I was upset,” Rosa whispers. “I would never… I just needed time. Space to think. I was bringing her back.”

“The law—” Lowe begins again.

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