Page 79 of Rock

Rock held Lyla tighter. “Enlighten us.”

“Carl Houseman was in over his head, buying and selling drugs. He got behind. He owed his dealer a lot of money. So, the last time he made an exchange, the guy followed him back to your house. He knew Carl was keeping his stash there, and the house was vacant, so he waited for Carl to leave, went in himself, found the stash, and took everything.”

“How the hell did you find all this out?” Jackson asked.

Rock simply nodded. “Because Owen was undercover. He knew, but he couldn’t call it in.”

Susan nodded. “Exactly.”

Lyla turned her gaze toward Rock. “The guy who came in behind you?”

“Yes.”

“Is it over, then?” Lyla asked, unable to keep her voice from shaking.

“Yes, Baby girl, it’s over.”

Susan nodded. “The investigator might have a few more questions for you, but they have most of what they need without you. You can press charges for assault, of course, and that might be advised at some point, but chances are Carl will get nailed for far bigger crimes before anyone could even take a look at your assault charges.”

Lyla nodded. “Okay.” She certainly didn’t want to become involved in a lengthy court battle if it wasn’t necessary.

“I’ll let you folks get out of here.” Susan smiled as she and her partner turned to head back into the coffee shop.

“Let’s get you home,” Rock stated.

“To your place?” she asked, her voice squeaking.

“Toourplace, Little Lyla.” Rock kissed her temple and helped her to her feet.

CHAPTER

TWENTY-TWO

Aweek later…

“Are you sure about this?” Rock asked Lyla as he sat next to her on the couch.

She was holding her sketchbook. She wasn’t just holding it; she had it plastered to her chest with one arm across it as if it contained all her secrets and she was reluctant to let them go. She nodded. “I’m sure.”

He angled toward her and stroked a hand down her ponytail. “Baby girl, you do not have to show me your sketchbook. It’s like a diary to you. It’s private. I don’t want you to feel obligated to show me anything in it.”

She shook her head. “It’s okay. I want you to see it. I think you’ll understand me better if you do. But also, I know what I want my first tattoo to be. It’s in here because I sketched it myself. I want you to see it and approve it.”

He narrowed his gaze. “You don’t need my approval for something like that, Little one.” He hated how tense she was, as if she were being forced to do something way out of her comfort zone.

When she lowered the book onto her lap, he pressed a hand over it. “Lyla…”

She lifted her gaze. “It’s okay, really. I mean it. It just makes me feel vulnerable, but I don’t mind being vulnerable in front of you. You’re my man, my partner, my Daddy.”

“Okay, Baby girl,” he whispered.

“I have dozens of books like this, but this is the latest one I’ve been using. It was blank when I first arrived here.”

He watched her closely, noting the shaking of her hands and the way she smoothed her fingers over the cover of the book as if it were her most precious possession. He had no idea what to expect or why she was so nervous.

It was just a sketchbook. The first time he’d seen her sketching, she’d been working on a fruit basket in her basement. He had no idea what was so private about a fruit basket. What other kinds of things did she sketch?

She opened it to the first page and reverently smoothed her hand over the edge.

---