Page 57 of Fearless

She was tucked against him and his body shielded her from view, from the light, from anything that would interfere. His large thumb brushed over the inside of her wrist, over her pounding pulse. Staring at their hands, he said in the softest, gentlest voice, “No,chéri. No, no, no. You’re just a little thing.”

Her eyes were full of tears before she could find any meaning in his words. “Why is that a bad thing?” she whispered.

“It isn’t.” He lifted her hand, placed it back in her own lap, and released her. “It’s averybad thing.”

She wanted to stand, to walk away, put her back to him, but instead she sat, her head bowed against his arm, as the awful evening crashed over her and she mourned the loss of him as the man in her life. Things couldn’t continue. He could never again be “her Mercy,” because her feelings for him could never go back to the innocent adoration of childhood.

The door squealed open behind them and Ava rushed to wipe her eyes on her sleeve. She straightened away from him, only then realizing how close they were. She half-turned to glance over her shoulder and saw her parents exiting the precinct.

Maggie’s expression was a blend of tender, maternal things.

Ghost’s was suspicious.

“Everything all right?”

“Yeah.” Ava got to her feet and dusted off the seat of her jeans, refusing to look at Mercy. “I was telling Mercy about the drugs, about what Mason–”

Ghost halted her with a raised palm. “We’ll worry about that,” he said, dismissing her. He cast a fast glance around them. “Somewhere that isn’t the police station.”

He looked to Merc. “Follow them home?” he asked. “I have a feeling I can look forward to a visit from our wannabe governor tonight at the clubhouse. I need to get some things in order first.”

Mercy climbed to his feet. “Sure thing, boss.” He gave Maggie a smile that suggested he hadn’t just broken Ava’s heart to bits and motioned toward the shallow precinct stairs. “Ladies first?”

Maggie pressed a fast kiss to Ghost’s mouth, then said, “Come on, baby,” and herded Ava down toward the car.

“Text me,” Ghost called.

“Always,” Maggie said.

Ava tried not to notice the way Mercy’s shadow mated with hers as he followed them.

“Something to eat, Mercy?” Maggie asked as she hung her jacket on the peg.

Ava dropped down into a chair at the table and risked a glance at him, the way he occupied too much of their kitchen. He looked like he belonged there – because he did. Even if now, in this moment with her eyes on him, she saw the barest scraps of self-consciousness in him. Her earlier assessment had been right: he didn’t know what to do with her feelings. He wouldn’t stop baiting them and he wouldn’t discuss them.

Bastard.

“Nah,” he said. “I should get going. You girls will be okay?”

“Of course.” Maggie waved him away as she opened the fridge and came out with a chilled bottle of Chardonnay. “Thanks for the escort.” She gave him an affectionate tap on the arm.

“Yeah.” He lingered, just a moment, longer than he should have. Ava glanced away from him, but she felt his gaze. “Call if you need anything before Ghost gets home.”

“Will do.”

When he was gone, Maggie flipped the deadbolt, and then some of her carefree veneer sloughed away, leaving her tired and a little caved in at the shoulders. “Oh, baby,” she murmured as she returned to the counter and uncorked the wine, pulled down two glasses. She filled two regular dinner glasses halfway, then returned the wine to the fridge and returned with a can of Sprite that she halved between the two glasses. She brought the fizzing spritzers to the table and sat across from Ava. “I’m so sorry.”

Ava shrugged and watched the bubbles rise in her drink, wondering how many other mothers were pouring their daughters wine at the age of seventeen. She’d had her first sanctioned drink last year. “If you’re old enough to be in this family, then you’re old enough for a little nip here and there,” Maggie had said.

“We’ll get it sorted,” Maggie continued.

Ava shook her head. “Not this time, Mom. The club doesn’t have any sway with the school.”

Maggie made a face and sipped her spritzer. “Yeah, well, we’ll see.”

“Mom…” Ava trailed off into a sigh. She was too tired to argue. Too tired to care. Her suspension would begin tomorrow, marking the day her college dreams would end. Her throat ached thanks to her tears from before. She wanted to take a bath…maybe drown in it…and go to bed.

She left her drink untouched and was getting to her feet when Maggie glanced up at her with sudden, intense seriousness. There was a graveness to the fine lines around her eyes, something sad and almost like regret.

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