Page 122 of Delicate Escape

“He’s torturing her,” Shep growled.

“I know,” Trace assured him. Then he turned back to me. “Anson was able to get me the LAPD’s records on the case. They won’t know who pulled them or why, but at least this way I can see what evidence was gathered.”

My stomach twisted as I remembered all the fruitless conversations with officers in LA, all the times I’d been made to feel that everything that had happened wasmyfault.

“They did a crap job of thoroughly looking into things,” he went on.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” I muttered.

“Anson has Dex on it now. He’s going to see if he can find any proof that links Brendan to the cyber-attacks against you.”

I straightened in my chair. “Do you think that’s possible?”

My heart hammered against my ribs. I’d given up on Brendan ever being brought to justice. I just wanted him to go away. But having him live with the repercussions of his actions? Having the world know the truth? That was more than I’d ever dared hope for.

“If anyone can do it, Dex can,” Trace said. “Anson’s told me about what he does for the FBI. The guy has serious skills. And I definitely wouldn’t want to cross him. He’s got a finely honed need for justice.”

Shep’s eyes narrowed on his brother. “You mean he’s a vigilante.”

“That would be the word. But he’s a vigilante on our side.”

Shep jerked his head in a nod. “You tell him we’ll get him whatever he needs.”

“Shep—”

He turned back to me, his hand going to my face and cupping my cheek. “Brendan is done tormenting you. And he’s going to get what he deserves. I’ll make sure of it.”

My stomach bottomed out. As much as I wanted Brendan to be served a healthy dose of justice, I knew what he did to people who crossed him. He ruined them.

47

THEA

I hoisteda bag of potting soil from the back of a Gator onto the display pile Rhodes and I were currently erecting at the side of the potting flowers.

“I’m thinking we could’ve hit it big in Ancient Egypt. Our pyramid-building skills are next level,” Rhodes said as she dropped another bag of soil on the pile.

I chuckled, putting the next one in place. “How’s your arm feeling?”

Rhodes rolled up her T-shirt sleeve and flexed her cast-free biceps. “Good as new.” She let her arm fall to her side. “How are you holding up with everything?”

Her gaze moved to the parking lot where a Mercer County Sheriff’s Department vehicle was parked. They’d been my frequent companions over the past week. Not twenty-four-seven but fairly constant. Trace must’ve been in contact with Shep because on the days when he picked me up from work, they peeled off quickly. Butwhen I drove myself, they followed me home or were waiting for me at work when I got there.

But everything had been quiet. Too quiet. There’d been no word from Brendan. And that almost unsettled me more.

“I’m doing all right.” It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either. My nerves were eating away at me. But there was good, too. Every time I got too wound up to sit still, Shep foundotherthings to keep me occupied.

And more than that, there were no more walls between us. Everything was out in the open. We’d spend time in the greenhouse or at Shep’s restoration project, planning out the landscaping for all around the house. Despite everything swirling around us, we were building a life.

Rhodes’ lips pursed, her eyes squinting. “I’m sensing a lie.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. She looked like she was trying to see through my skull. “Practicing that X-ray vision?”

“You know, I’ve always wished I was psychic. It would come in so handy.”

I grinned at her. “Have one of Lolli’s brownies and you might get there.”

“Oh, hell no. Been there, done that. I still haven’t recovered.”

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