Page 50 of Five Fingers of Death

“I have no clue. Why don’t you ask her?” I argued.

“Alright, why don’t we all take it down a notch,” Kavanaugh sighed. “I think it’s safe to say that no one here would allow anyone to hurt a kid. And if Izzy needs that reassurance, we will do whatever we can to ease her mind. That being said, she can’t just barge over to other people’s homes and accuse them of child abuse.”

“She can come over here any time she wants to check on Carli,” I said instantly. “If that makes her feel better, I have no problem with it.”

“Seriously?” Kavanaugh asked.

I had to be crazy for even saying it, but yeah. “Knight asked us to look after her. He trusted us with her because we worked with Rafe. So yeah, if this is what she needs, then she can come over. She’s not hurting anyone by making sure Carli’s okay. As long as she doesn’t put shit in Carli’s head, it’s all good.”

Speaking of which, I probably needed to go up there and make sure she wasn’t filling my kid’s head with bullshit. I headed upstairs and frowned when I didn’t hear a damn thing. My hackles rose as I picked up the pace, but then I heard voices and a giggle the closer I got to her room.

Peeking around the corner, I saw them in the tent with their noses in a book. I leaned against the doorframe, watching as Carli practically climbed on top of Isabelle to hear the story.

“The end.”

“Read it again!”

“Again? But I’ve already read it twice.”

“Please?”

I rolled my eyes at the pleading in her voice. This kid could wrap anyone around her finger. “Carli, I think that’s enough for today.”

Carli sat up and put the most innocent look on her face. I knew in that instant that she had done this with her mother before. How the hell Leah ever got anything done with this face staring back at her was beyond me.

“It’s my favorite book.”

Isabelle sat up from where her long brown hair spilled all over the pillows. I tried not to notice how beautiful she was. Those big brown eyes could pull any man into those bottomless pits— Just like Leah. Fuck, I had screwed up so badly with Leah. I pushed her away, sure that I would only ruin her life, and look where that got me. I ended up getting her killed. Her daughter didn’t have a mother and it was all my fault. The last thing I needed in my life was to even look at another woman.

Besides, she was Rafe’s sister, and she was damaged. Thirteen years on an island had truly fucked with her head. And I had my own baggage to deal with, along with a brand new daughter I was just getting to know. There was zero room in my life for any kind of complications.

I dragged my eyes away from her and focused on my daughter. “I’m sure it is, but Isabelle isn’t going to read to you all day.”

“But she came to see me.”

“I should probably go.” Isabelle scooted out of the tent as demurely as possible.

“Are we gonna make brownies tomorrow?”

“We can.”

“Daddy?”

Carli turned to me with pleading eyes. I just couldn’t say no. “Yeah, we can.”

The beaming smile I got made my day a little brighter, making me forget for just a second that I had been too late to save her mother. I walked over and held out my hand to help Isabelle off the floor. She appraised my hand for a moment before deeming it safe to take. The moment our skin touched, a strange feeling rushed through me. I didn’t know how to describe it, but it was almost like it just felt right to touch her.

The idea that a touch could feel right was puzzling. I shook off the feeling and stepped back, releasing her as I found anywhere to look but at her.

“I should go,” Isabelle murmured, hurrying past me.

Clearing my throat, I didn’t move until I heard her bounding down the steps and rushing out the door. Carli was back in her tent playing, giving me a reprieve to pull my shit together. I had no fucking clue what all that was about, but it had to end.

I prayed everyone was long gone when I finally headed downstairs with Carli on my heels. She was babbling about Isabelle reading her a story, telling me how much she loved having her in the tent.

I whirled around, not wanting to hear another word about Isabelle. “Hey, what are we gonna do for lunch?”

“Pizza!”

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