Page 27 of Lust

“Maybe but it’s not a great image.” I wave my hand for Oz to hurry up and get on with it, even though he can’t see me. “The guy is wearing a cap and got his head down, so no facial. But he does have a limp, and there’s a logo on his jacket that isn’t any of the usual brands,” Oz says.

“Send me what you have, and I’ll see if Ro recognises the guy. Check all the vehicle registrations and run a background check. Anything that looks off, I want to know about it.”

“Will do. Kincaid still breathing?”

“For now. Ro’s trying to find out details.” My phone pings as Oz sends through the image, and I promise to call him if I find out anything more.

When I arrive back inside, Ro is sitting in a small waiting area, and I make my way over to him.

“Oz get anything?”

I open the message from Oz and drop into the seat beside Ro to show him. “That’s it,” I say and hand over my phone to him.

Ro scans the image, zooming in, trying to get a better look at the guy from the CCTV still. He hands it back to me.

“We aren’t identifying this guy from that.” He’s just as pissed as I am.

“I asked Oz to check all the vehicles and owners, but I wouldn’t hold your breath. Whoever this guy is, he knew how to avoid being seen.”

I don’t say what I’m really thinking because if Kincaid dies, I’m not sure Ro is going to deal with it well. He’s been searching for his sister’s murderer for the last three years. To get so close only to have someone else steal your revenge is fucked up. The past few weeks have been made harder because Ro is constantlyputting on a performance when he’s around Kincaid and Syd. The quiet, reserved and kind reverend persona he’s currently displaying is so far from his real personality. I can imagine how draining it is for him.

“If you want to get out of here, I can stay?”

He shakes his heads. “Not a fucking chance,” he hisses out, keeping his voice low. “I need to know what we’re dealing with here.”

It’san hour before the doors swish open and a tired and emotionally strung-out Sydney walks back out. I nudge Ro’s leg to get his attention away from the spot on the floor he’s been intently inspecting for the last thirty minutes.

Getting to our feet, we move towards her. She has her head down and doesn’t see us until we stop her at the exit.

“Hey, Syd. How’s your father?” I ask, trying to catch her gaze, but she’s proficiently avoiding looking at me. Risking a scene after what happened before the police arrived earlier, I reach out and grasp her chin, tilting her face up to look at me. Her eyes are red and puffy and her bottom lip trembles. “Hey,” I say gently. “Talk to me, what’s going on?”

Her shoulders slump and she releases a heavy sigh, pulling away from my hold. “He’s…er, he’s stable. But they are concerned about internal bleeding and—” Her hands come up to cover her mouth as a sob breaks free.

I sense Ro tense beside me, and I know he’s thinking about the real possibility of Kincaid dying before he gets what he needs to relief himself of the guilt he feels over his sister’s murder.

I put my arm around her and slowly lead her out of the hospital. “He’s in the best place, and he’s strong and fit. He canfight this, Syd.” She allows me to guide her to where we parked the car, then help her inside. “Let’s get you home,” I say as I’m clipping her seatbelt into place.

“No, no, I need to go to Pa’s and get some belongings for if…when he wakes up,” she says, grasping my arm. “He’ll hate having to wear a hospital gown and be more comfortable in his own things.”

My eyes catch Ro’s as he looks over from the driver’s seat, eyebrows raised. “We’ll take you,” I tell her, and she nods.

I climb in next to Ro, and as he begins to drive, Syd tells him her address completely unaware we know where he lives. There are many things Syd isn’t aware of, and I’m torn between low-level happiness that Kincaid has at least felt some measure of pain but sadness for the pain this is causing Sydney.

I’m almost certain Sydney has no idea of who her father really is. And if she did, I’m not so sure she’d be sitting in the backseat of our car with her hands clasped together in prayer.

Sydney has calmed some by the time we arrive at her father’s house. When Ro and I climb out to enter the house with her, she stops to look at us.

“I don’t need any help.”

“Maybe not, but I’m not letting you go inside until we’ve checked it’s safe,” Ro tells her, broking no argument. He holds his hand out for Sydney to give him keys.

“I don’t have a key with me, but Pa keeps one under the mat in the porch.”

Ro shakes his head, muttering under his breath as he strides toward the porch. I smile, placing a hand on Sydney’s back as we follow. It’s highly inappropriate but I can’t help the small jolt of arousal at touching her or deny how eager I am to continue what we started earlier. Of course, that’s not likely to happen any time soon given the current situation. She might be the daughter of a murderer, but that doesn’t mean she is. I’m not so innocent andwill take every opportunity I get to comfort her, and if that leads somewhere, then all the better.

Ro unlocks the door and indicates for me to follow.

“Stay here. Don’t come in until we tell you to, okay?”

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