Page 48 of Shadowed Obsession

“Last night?” he asks.

I shake my head. “No, Cora stayed the night and we camped out in the living room.”

“So not at all today then.”

I bite the inside of my cheek to keep myself from spiraling. I don't even know if I have enough adrenaline left inside of me at this point.

“No, I don't think so. But I was definitely in here the night those guys broke in.”

“You sure?” he asks.

I nod several times. “Yeah, I am. Because I had the water running when I heard them. I thought it was Nova. Or you.”

“Do you recognize the handwriting at all? Any guesses what it means or who it's from?”

“There's something so familiar about the scent. It kind of reminds me of—goddammit.”

“Who?” he asks, instantly catching on.

“My sister,” I grit through my teeth. “She's been on me about giving the house to her, and I bet this is her passive aggressive way of threatening me to do what she wants.”

He nods slowly, his eyes narrowing on the offending letter. “It's possible. I can have the sheriff's office run it for prints in the morning.”

“Don't bother,” I tell him, putting the lid on the box. I cross the room and drop it in the trash can by the dresser with a deep breath. “I don't even want to give her the satisfaction of knowing she got to me.”

“If you're sure,” he says, watching me.

“I'm sure. I don't know how she got in, though. So I guess I might need to change the locks.” I push the end of my thumb against my teeth, adding it to my mental to-do list.

“I'll take care of it for you.”

“Thank you,” I breathe out. “I guess I better start turning off some of these lights.” I tilt my head toward the doorway, and he dips his head. But not before I see a small smile tug at the corners of his lips.

“Yeah, I thought you might be trying to signal someone on the moon or something,” he quips, following me downstairs.

20

BANE

I flickthe lock on the front door and peer out of one of the side windows. Shadows dance against the cone of light cast from the streetlights on the road. Her house is set just far enough back, and the neighbors' houses are just far enough away. Her house is a logistical nightmare from a security standpoint.

Most people would assume that having nothing but open acres of land surrounding your home is a good thing. For entertaining, sure. But for defense? Hell no.

I was already going to install a few security cameras, but I'm going to have to amend that order for a few upgrades.

I step back from the door and look behind me, startled to find Evangeline so close. She looks so small right now. Not meek or fragile, but like something precious. Something to be protected and cherished.

She's twisting her fingers together, her hands clasped in front of her. Eyes wide and darting around everywhere, never staying on one thing for too long.

I let instinct take over and envelop her in a hug. Her cheek presses against my chest and she wraps her arms around me. And I sort of idly wonder if she can feel my heart hammering, because it feels like it's close to pounding free from my ribcage.

The fact that a fucking hug is making my pulse race like some kind of preteen should be embarrassing, but I'm too busy enjoying the way her body fits so perfectly against mine.

I lay my cheek against the top of her head and breathe her in. Vanilla and sweet cherries fill my senses. It reminds me of the cherry floats I got as a kid at Uncle Harry's downtown.

We stand in her foyer for what feels like too long and not long enough before she breaks the silence.

“Thank you,” she murmurs against my shirt.

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