Page 95 of Guarded from Treachery

“Oh, Isles.” Stopping just outside the entrance, I gather her into my arms and lower my lips to hers. “I love you so much.”

Her eyes sparkle up at me, amethyst and sapphire in the early afternoon sun. “I love you, too, Matt. With all my heart.” She kisses me again. Then her gaze drifts to the large picture window beside the glass door and she sucks in a breath. “I see her in there.”

After a second, I spot a woman who’s very clearly Isla’s mother—she has the same chestnut hair and heart-shaped face—sitting at a table with her eyes downcast. She doesn’t look like the monster I’ve imagined her to be, but one thing I’ve learned in my years in the Army and later, with Blade and Arrow, is that evil is often hidden by a beautiful veneer.

Although, maybe her mother reallyissorry. Maybe she truly wants to make amends.

Still. Family or not, if she tries to hurt Isla again, I won’t allow it.

Isla sighs and takes a step away from me. “I should go inside. Find out what she has to say.”

A band winds around my chest and squeezes. Cold sweat prickles at the back of my neck. There’s a part of me that wants to insist on staying. To sit at the little counter on the other side of the shop just to keep an eye on things. Or barring that, stay in my car just in case Isla needs my support.

But she’s an adult. And while I know she lets me do things for her even though she’s perfectly capable of doing them herself, this is something she wants—needs—to do on her own. So I force a smile and say, “Okay. Just call me when you want me to come back. I bet it’ll be just fine and you’ll realize you had nothing to worry about.”

Fear shadows her expression for a second. “I hope so.”

“Hey.” I catch her hand and give it a little squeeze. “It will. And after this, we’ll go home and spend the rest of the day together. Maybe watch some HGTV, playMinecraft, or I could help with your new model. And Xavier and Lucy were talking about grilling out in the barn tonight. So we could join them if you want.”

Her face brightens. “That sounds nice. And after that, I could show you some of the new lingerie I bought?”

My pants suddenly go tight. A needy ache builds inside me. “Yes.Definitely.”

“Okay.” She puts her hands on my shoulders and stretches up to kiss me again. “I’ll call to let you know how things are going.” A beat, and then, “I know you won’t be gone long. But I’ll miss you.”

Oh.

My heart.

I cup her soft cheek and stroke my thumb across her satin skin. “I’ll miss you, too.”

It’s only been halfan hour.

If I haven’t heard from Isla yet, that means things are going well. She didn’t have a blowout fight with her mother in the first few minutes of conversation or rush off in tears after her mother said something cruel or insensitive.

More likely, they’re having a pleasant conversation, hopefully complete with lots of groveling on Isla’s mother’s part. Hopefully, Isla is receiving at least a small fraction of the affection she should have received as a kid.

So it’s fine, just like I said. There’s nothing to worry about.

“Mr. Cross? What should I do next? The program is asking me to write a line of code that will make my hero attack the monster on the other side of the door.”

I shove my phone back in my pocket and turn to face the source of the question, thirteen-year-old Evan Isaacson, who reminds me a lot of myself at that age. He doesn’t have the second-hand clothes, but he carries himself in that same self-conscious way, his posture slumped and his gaze lowered to the floor.

He’s one of the reasons I like coming to the community center, although I haven’t been able to visit as much recently—not with everything going on with Isla and then getting her settled in at B and A, plus the jobs I’ve been going on over the last couple of weeks. We started volunteering here as a team when Sarah came on to help as a counselor, and we’ve continued coming ever since. It’s been nice, getting to know the local families of Seguin and letting them know we’re here to help if they ever need.

“Okay.” I take the seat at the computer beside Evan and look at his screen. “So, what you want to do first is determine the functions you need to use. Walk, turn, open door, and attack. Then decide the order of them.”

“Hmm.” He leans close to the screen as he studies it. “So I need to walk first, turn twice, open the door… then attack?”

I tap the display on the screen—a little knight holding a sword making his way through a castle, taking on a variety of monsters and finding treasures as he goes. “After you come through the door, are you close enough to attack? Or do you need to walk a little further?”

After a moment’s consideration, Evan replies, “Walk further. Then attack. Right?”

“Exactly.” I smile at him. “Next step is figuring out how many steps you need to walk each time. What I’d do is a short test run just to the door. Then?—”

A loud alarm blares from my phone.

My heart stops. Ice fills my lungs.

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