Page 7 of Tapped

Not only that, what kind of guy refers to himself as a knight in shining armor?

If I wasn’t a responsible mother, I would bury myself in this closet and never come out. But Tonya and Chase should be home any moment. I just sent my husband away, and no one on earth other than my family knows.

I don’t need a government agent on my front porch when Tonya gets home.

I climb to my feet and hurry down the stairs to the front door. The doorbell is ringing nonstop by the time I flip the lock and throw open the door and freeze.

Wow.

I have no words.

I thought he looked big over the camera, but it’s nothing compared to reality. I’m not short, but I’m also not tall, and this man towers over me. I don’t let go of the door handle and prepare to slam it in his face should I need to. “Who are you, and what do you want?”

His eyes drag over me efficiently before focusing over my head to scan my house. His blue eyes narrow when he mutters, “Are you alone?”

My heart speeds, and I wonder if I made a mistake. Anyone can shove a fake badge and credentials into a tiny camera. Why the hell didn’t I question that?

“No,” I lie. “My husband is upstairs.”

His intense blue-eyed stare lands back on me. “Is that so?”

“He’s in the shower.” I start to close the door, because the need to put a barrier between me and the rest of the world is overwhelming.

He puts a hand to the door and his arm barely bulges when he easily stops me. “Why are you lying?”

I don’t let go of the door and try to control my nerves. “Why would I lie?”

“That’s what I want to know. Why would you lie?”

“Who are you, and what do you want?” I repeat.

“You’re alone,” he states.

“Look, whatever your name is, my husband is upstairs. I’ll have him come down and talk to you when he gets out of the shower. But I’m busy.”

He doesn’t take his hand off the door and has the nerve to take a step over the threshold.

“No—” I panic and try to shut the door on him, but he doesn’t stop and shifts his weight to reach for something on his hip.

He looks down and turns a dial as a beep and crackle break through the thick, humid air. He looks at me when he presses the comm button and speaks into the two-way radio. “Yo, Cruz, you there?”

The radio crackles before someone answers, “Ten-four. Is the doctor at home?”

He never takes his eyes off me when he pauses for a quick second. “Yeah, she’s here. Have the units pulled Jeff Michaels over yet?”

My expression might as well dissolve at my feet. I let go of the door and take a step back to wrap myself in my own shaky embrace.

The deep voice responds quickly. “Damn, you’re impatient. We had to follow him until he got off the freeway. We’re pulling up behind the officer with more backup. Give me three minutes, and he’ll be in custody. What about the boy and the babysitter?”

I find it hard to pull in a breath at the mention of my son. So much so, I might fall over. “What’s happening?”

The man, who I can only assume is telling the truth about who he is, takes it upon himself to enter uninvited. The door slams with a thud for the second time this afternoon.

“Where’s your son?” the agent demands.

Shit.

I thought my life was a nightmare when Jeff left.

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