Page 145 of Bottles & Blades
Only then does she pause, suck in a breath.
That’s when Cam’s hand settles on my shoulder.
I know he’s trying to ground me, to give me support.
But I still want to tear his head off.
Instead, I force myself to remain frozen in place, to keep listening.
As she tells us about the gun and paperwork they wanted me to sign—which I would have made, in an instant, if it meant keeping her safe. But when her voice gentles as she mentions Angela, I snap to even more rigid attention.
“I don’t think it’s exactly what we thought,” Tiff says carefully. “I don’t think she’s the mastermind behind everything. In fact, she looked scared and she had bruises and cuts all over her.” Teeth in her bottom lip. “And when the man mentioned her father, she went pale, like she was terrified of what he would say.”
Attie and I glance at each other.
But I have no insights.
As far as I knew, all of Angela’s family was dead even before we married.
Tiff keeps talking. “She tried to stop the man from hurting me and he stabbed her.”
“Fuck,” I whisper turning to Attie again, my brows lifting in question.
“We found blood on the floor,” she says, “but Angela slipped away during the chaos.”
More questions when it comes to my ex-wife.
Christ, why is she always bringing more questions into our lives?
Tiff nibbles at her bottom lip, clearly uncertain and unsettled, and I can’t take being this far from her any longer. I move to her, drag her against me. “We’ll find her,” I promise. “And find a way to make this all make sense.”
“I know,” she whispers, her hand settling against my chest, her body melting against mine. “I just…I think we only have a few pieces of the puzzle of Angela and what she really wants.”
Something else that makes me want to punch my fist through the wall.
I table that, settle my hand on her back, gently stroke up and down, and breathe in the scent of her.
She’s okay.
Thank fuck, she’s okay.
Quiet falls.
But eventually, Attie breaks that silence. “We’ll give you guys tonight.” She starts for the hall, Cam trailing her. “But I’ll be by your house tomorrow to follow up on your statements.”
“We’ll be at the winery,” Tiff tells her.
I tighten my arms, start to protest. Our plans for the next day are far from important. But Attie nods before I get that out and says, “We’ll catch up with you there, then.”
She and Cam are gone in the next instant, closing the door behind them.
I glance down at my woman, guilt slicing anew.
“Baby,” I rasp.
“I’m okay, Jean-Mi.” She touches my jaw. “Just breathe. I’m here. I’m fine. I wasn’t hurt.”
“You were scared,” I press.
