Page 12 of Viktor

“Yeessss…can I have a cookie?”

“No cookies!” Sara sent her dad a warning look. “It’s too early for sweets.”

She saw Gabe crack a smile while he started to unload the trunk. Maybe he wasn’t as stoic as she first thought. There might be a sense of humor lurking somewhere behind that mask of indifference.

“Here, let me help.” Sara tried to take one of the suitcases, and he brushed her aside.

“No, ma’am. I’ll see to these. I think you’re about to have a cookie monster thief on your hands.” He nodded to the now empty front porch.

Sara laughed. She suspected he was right. They were probably already knee deep in the pantry. “If you’re sure you don’t need any help?”

“Go on. I got this.” His brown eyes twinkled with mirth. Who was this person, and where did Gabe go? His entire demeanor changed. Maybe it was because they’d reached their destination and didn’t have to worry so much?

She made her way up the porch steps and into the house. She heard Delia chatting up a storm in the kitchen, where she found her parents all cuddled up together. They’d been married for almost forty years and were still as in love as the day they said, “I do.” It gave her hope one day she’d find love like that.

“Gross!” She scrunched up her face and made gagging sounds, setting her daughter off into another fit of giggles. Her mother rolled her eyes but didn’t move away from her husband.

“Your mother tells me we’re going to be having some guests.” Roy’s sharp eyes zeroed in on her, worry written in every line of his face.

“Just a precaution, Dad.” She went over and kissed his cheek. “Nothing to worry about.”

“Come on, poppet.” Sue Anne disentangled herself from Roy. “Let’s go see if your stuffed animals survived the weekend. You know how Buster likes to chew up things.”

“Pawpawl promised to keep him out of my room.”

“Maybe I did, and maybe I didn’t.”

Delia gasped and hopped down from the bar stool, running hell for leather for the stairs.

“That was so wrong, Dad.”

He smirked. “Got to keep her on her toes or she’ll run us all ragged.”

“That’s the God’s truth,” Sue Anne muttered and took off after her granddaughter.

“Now, tell me what’s going on.”

Sara went to the fridge and fetched a couple bottles of water, knowing Gabe would come find them when he was done with the car. “You remember me talking about Dimitri Kincaid, the writer friend of mine?”

He snorted. “A man writing romance books. Somethin’ just ain’t right about that.”

Her father was old school. He believed a man worked with his hands to support his family, and if he was going to be a writer, he needed to write horror or science fiction. Anything, really, as long as itwasn’tromance. She suspected Dimitri’s family felt the same, as much grief as they gave him.

“I was telling him about Roger and how he kept violating the restraining order when there aren’t any witnesses around. I was worried he might try something, and Dimitri, being the good friend he is, offered to get us some private security.”

“Private security?”

“His brother owns Kincaid Security and Investigations. They’re going to keep us safe and help me catch Roger in the act.”

“You think all that’s necessary?” Roy frowned, sitting down at the breakfast table. “Roger knows better than to do anything that might get him caught.”

“Sir, men like your son-in-law don’t care about getting caught when they’ve lost the thing that matters most to them. For Roger, that happens to be Sara and Delia. He’s had complete control over them up until this point, and now that’s gone. It infuriates him, and it could potentially drive him to do terrible things.”

Gabe had slipped into the kitchen, unbeknownst to both Sara and her father. He leaned against the doorway, looking at ease, but also very alert.

“Dad, this is Gabriel Knorlin, one of Viktor’s men. He’s here until Viktor arrives.”

“Sir.” Gabe tipped his head. “Please call me Gabe.”

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