“Yes, sweetie,” I say while kissing the top of his head. “He’s kind of like Batman.”
“Is he going to keep us safe?”
“Yes. He’s going to help me keep you so very safe, I promise.”
A promise I’ve broken before but I swear I won’t break again. Scott struggles to get his tears under control, but I let him cry for as long as he needs to. After his bath, he falls asleep in my arms while I dwell on what I’m supposed to do next.
Is marrying Levi really the right way to do this? It’s not worth putting my son in danger, but what else can I do? How long until Hillary drops her case and I can move on? I will do everything I can to protect my baby, but there has to be something better than this.
The next week passes in a blur.
After a brief conversation with Levi, I secure a therapist specializing in children to come and talk to Scott. As much as I provide an open space, giving him a professional to talk to who can ask the right questions and evaluate him feels like the bestmove to ensure he’s truly doing okay. The therapist tells me children are resilient, but I ask her to come back every week just to be sure.
Part of keeping Scott safe involves homeschooling him, which takes up a lot of time. Between that and planning the engagement event to impress Marcella, I don’t have a lot of time to see Levi, so we don’t have a chance to continue our conversation. Thankfully, caring for Scott, his education, and all the planning keep me busy enough that I don’t realize things have started to calm down until I sleep through the night and don’t wake once.
Life is finally settling.
The next morning, I send Scott into the lounge to spend time with his therapist and I’m busy making myself lunch when I get a phone call. Assuming it’s one of the various vendors for my party, I answer without a thought.
“Hello?”
“Good afternoon, I’m looking to speak to Maeve Jackson?”
“This is her.”
“Hello Maeve, I’m Detective Andrew Hogg. We’ve been trying to get in touch with you for some time but you’re a hard woman to track down. I need you to come down to the station.”
My phone almost slips from my shoulder in shock as a tight ball of nerves forms in my gut. “Why? I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“You can come voluntarily, Miss Jackson, or I can send someone to pick you up.”
Is this about Cameron? Or what happened at the hotel? “Can you tell me what this is regarding?”
“Not over the phone.”
“When do I need to come?”
“Whenever is convenient, but sooner rather than later.”
20
LEVI
“Another?” Nazario sits beside me with an empty beer bottle clutched in his hand. His voice remains low, despite it being just the two of us in this secluded, underground bar.
It took me a good twenty minutes to shake the security detail my father has tailing me. He thinks I don’t know about them, but I know most of his moves before he makes them, and meeting secretly with Naz isn’t something I want on his radar.
“I shouldn’t,” I reply softly.
“That’s not a no.” Smirking, Naz lifts two fingers lazily at the bartender then angles himself toward me. “I’m sorry to hear what happened to Maeve and her kid. That’s rough.”
“She’s taking it well, all things considered.”
“Do you have any names?”
Sighing, I slide my empty bottle away and it’s replaced by another. The chilled glass against my fingertips is rather soothing. Shaking my head, I reply, “No. But my father saw The Wolves tattoos on their chests and he’s pissed. He suspects you lured us to the dinner so that Maeve would be left alone and the perfect target.”
“Do you believe me when I say those assassins are not mine?”
