Six

NO COMMENT

I GUESS I REALLY WAS A BIKER babe princess, because my aim had been a thing of beauty. One second I’d been panicking, trying to breathe, and the next I’d laid Jessica Rabbit on her pert behind while blood spilled from her perfect nose. Before I could even feel the pain that shot up my hand from the blow, Nate had barreled through the crowd like a bull, literally tossing men aside, then bent at the waist and threw me over his shoulder. He’d briefly looked down at Little Miss Reporter before pushing through the crowd—strong-arming would be more accurate—while they stood shocked at the turn of events. I’d watched from my perch on Nate’s shoulder when Devin gave Jessica Rabbit a hand up with a smile, before tossing Cali over his shoulder and following in Nate’s wake. I had no doubt there would be a video of the punch and heroic rescue on YouTube before the hour was out, if the number of cameras pointed our direction was any indicator.

When Nate had cleared security and set me on my feet, he was smiling instead of pissed. I’d expected a reprimand for letting go of his shirt, or bruising his precious Jessica Rabbit, but I’d gotten a swift kiss on the lips instead. Apparently, he found it hilarious I’d laid out his second chance love story, so I’d quickly edited my tropes. Number eight now read, 8) Evil reporter tries to steal hero while discrediting heroine. Live at Five. I also added a comment in the side notes that stated character arc would be adjusted as new developments came in.

Turning my head, I looked across the lobby of the Chatham County Sheriff’s Department and bit my thumbnail as my foot bounced. “Do you think they’ll arrest me for strikin’ a member of the press?”

“Not if Nate and the boys have anything to say about it,” Sienna mumbled, watching as our men walked over to glare, growl, or possibly threaten (Nate) one redheaded reporter into submission.

Cali leaned forward and glanced in the direction of Jessica Rabbit, also known—thanks to Cali’s interrogation of Devin—as Natalie Rhodes, Fox 28’s newest street reporter. She had an ice pack on her nose and her eyes were already beginning to bruise. Two deputies were giving her the first-class treatment, as men want to do when faced with long legs and big boobs.

She’d pounded on the lobby door after they’d closed it behind us. Seeing the blood running down her face, they’d opened it and let her in, then rushed around and administered first aid. Her eyes had kept traveling back to our group as the two deputies asked her what happened, but she hadn’t answered them yet. Nate didn’t like it, Bo was suspicious, and Devin kept rolling his eyes every time one of the deputies tripped over themselves to help her stand. Since my freedom hung in the balance, they all decide to head her off at the pass.

Nate, Bo, Devin, and even Knox stopped in front of her with their arms crossed at their chests. With all the cameras around, I couldn’t exactly plead not guilty.

But instead of intimidating her with their man scowls, Natalie seemed to take this as an invitation to flirt. And flirt she did. She batted her lashes and giggled at our men, while they tried to glare her into backing down.

“If she giggles one more time at Devin, she’s gonna get a fat lip to go with her broken nose,” Cali whispered, but apparently not low enough. Devin heard her and turned back to wink at Cali.

“What did Devin say about her?” Sienna asked under her breath. “That they knew her from college?”

My eyes slid to Cali when Natalie laughed at something then reached out and squeezed Devin’s arm. He stepped back out of her reach, pulling her hand from his arm, but Cali’s jaw clenched in response. I grabbed her hand and held on for support. “Breathe,” I mumbled. “Tell us what he said.”

“Devin said she was three years behind him and Nate,” she bit out, her laser focus on the scene across the room. “That she wrote on the school paper. She hounded them for an interview after they investigated a stolen test, and after weeks of tryin’ to avoid her, they finally relented so she’d leave them alone. Then she decided she’d adopt them as big brothers and followed them everywhere. He said they haven’t seen her since they graduated, and they barely recognized her. Said she used to be mousy and slightly plump with dishwater blonde hair.”

All three of us turned our eyes on the woman. Natalie had gone from plump and mousy to Emma Stone since they’d seen her. “Did he say if she annoyed them or if they liked her?” I asked.

“Devin didn’t say, but he did say neither he nor Nate thought she’d make it as a journalist because she didn’t have a killer instinct.”

Natalie tried flirting with Bo next. He asked if she intended to press charges, and instead of answering, she threw her head back and laughed in a husky voice that would invite any man to sidle up to her, so he could engage her in talk.

Bo didn’t respond though. He was a man who dealt with dangerous criminals daily, he wasn’t easily swayed by a pretty face, so he dropped his head in frustration instead. “Is it cyanide that isn’t detectable by the police?” Sienna mumbled.

I bugged out my eyes at Cali. “Um, Sister. Try to keep your murder plots to yourself.”

Cali leaned forward and looked at Sienna, and in all seriousness, said, “Cyanide’s typically used by women. If you want to throw off the police, use a knife or a gun. Let me know if you need help, I’ve got a shovel in my trunk.”

I blinked at Cali, then my chest swelled with pride. She was coming into her own. Sarcasm fairly oozed from her pores now.

Cali shrugged at our expressions. “Research for a book I edited.”

Natalie turned her sights on Nate next when he pushed her for an answer, saying in a deep guarded tone, “You fuckin’ owe me. You press charges against my woman, I’ll be pissed.”

My breath froze in my chest as I watched her finally agree to not press charges. As Nate had spoken, her eyes had warmed from flirtatious to that of a woman who would do anything she could to grab hold of the man in front of her.

She may have been mousy when they knew her, but she’d bloomed into a woman any man would stop and take a second, even third look at. One who was confident in her skin. Who didn’t care that when she was younger she’d held onto baby fat longer than most, because she knew she’d turned into a beautiful swan. A swan who could flirt with men while sporting two black eyes and not care. Her confidence in her ability to draw them in and keep their attention, was one of the reasons she’d been surrounded by deputies, vying for her attention.

She was the complete opposite of me.

She didn’t freeze the moment a man touched her. Didn’t back away from attention because it made her skin crawl. She smiled in the face of a busted nose and took advantage of the situation to get what she wanted. And she wanted Nate.

Dread flooded every cell in my body. Would she succeed in her quest to take Nate from me?

I looked down at the ice pack Nate had personally gotten for my bruised knuckles. I played with the plastic, squishing the mushy contents inside while I contemplated how craptastic my life had been the past twenty-four hours.

Natalie called out Nate’s name, so I looked up from my hand. He’d turned away from her and was headed our direction with Devin and Bo trailing behind.

Nate and Natalie . . . Even their names sounded good together. Would he prefer her rather than someone he had to fix?

I watched silently as he stopped in front of me then squatted to his haunches. He scanned my face like he was searching for the meaning of life, then pulled the ice pack from my knuckles, mumbling, “How’s your hand, Kitten?”

The sound of his husky voice drawling out the question, and the way his full mouth formed the words as he spoke, sent my heart fluttering. “I’m okay,” I whispered back, then held my breath as he raised my hand to his mouth and kissed the knuckles, his tongue slipping through his lips to taste the skin. It hypnotized me the way his eyes seemed to grow darker at my breathy reply, and I found myself leaning forward, wanting those lips on my mouth instead of my hand.

“I’m Natalie Rhodes,” an impatient voice said next to me. I stopped my descent toward Nate’s lips and looked at the red-tipped nails, attached to the hand that was inserted into the space between Nate and my head. She was cockblocking—or handblocking in this case—us from kissing. I looked up at her. She had a calculated expression. The kind that said she was about to get her Southern belle on and go after what she wanted. All’s fair in love and war, and in the South, that was doubly true. She was ready to pull her boots up, lock and load her gun, and get to the task of winning her man. Or my man.

Not if I have anything to say about it.

“I’m sorry if I frightened you with my microphone,” she continued, pointing out in front of Nate that I was weak. By apologizing to me instead of shrieking she was gonna have me arrested for assault, she was proving the stronger of the two of us. More emotionally stable. Better suited for the man in front of me. And that peeved me right the heck off because she was probably right.

I dug down deep for my inner biker babe princess DNA, paired it with my Southern belle, and took her hand. I stood, smiling at her like I didn’t mind one bit that she thought she could steal my man.

“No, I’m sorry. Guess I needed somethin’ to hit since the kidnapper got away. You were just an easy target what with all that red you’re wearin’,” I replied breezily, scanning her from head to toe. She’d made one mistake with her outfit. Red was a power color. True belles preferred softer colors, like worn-out Levi denim, for instance. We were also laid-back like iced tea and peaches on a hot summer’s day. And Southern men liked that about us. Wearing red from head to toe screamed ‘look at me.’ Screamed she’d dominate you, then dismiss you as not important after she’d won. Lesser men might fall for all that beauty, but Neanderthals like Nate preferred to do the chasing and the dominating. But don’t be fooled, they didn’t want a meek woman, either. No, they liked a strong woman who gave as good as they got, but they also liked to feel like men while pursuing their belles. And Natalie came across as a woman who would try to crush their twiddle diddles to get them to submit. That thought bolstered my confidence. I couldn’t see Nate allowing anyone to crush his golden nuggets.

I heard Cali snort at my reply, but I ignored her when Nate rose from his squat and curled his arm around my shoulders until he’d plastered me into his side. I watched with satisfaction when Natalie’s eyes drifted to his hand planted firmly to my hip. A smile tugged at my lips when her jaw clenched in response to the kiss he placed at my temple.

“Appreciate you not pressin’ charges,” Nate interjected.

Natalie’s eyes shot to his and she beamed at him, looking between us as she said, “I’d do just about anything for you. You know that.” The silent message was clear. She was letting me know she would, in fact, do anything to steal him.

The question remained, would Nate fall for it?

“Did Nate tell you we went to school together?” Natalie went on. I started to answer, but she kept talking. “Remember the bonfires before the Georgia Tech games? Gosh, I miss those. Nate’s fraternity was one of the frats we brothered with,” she explained. “Do you remember the panty raids?” The giggle that left her mouth was more girl than grown woman. She’d switched tactics in a blink of an eye. No more power play. She was going for sweet in her attempt to distract Nate from me.

I tilted my head back and looked at Nate to gauge his reaction. She was reminding him of their shared history. His lip twitched, so the trip down memory lane had scored a hit.

Natalie 1 Poppy 0.

I jumped a little when Natalie squeaked out in excitement, her role of sweet belle firmly in place, “We should get together and reminisce. Maybe I could come by the bar and we could hang out?”

I stiffened in reaction to her practically asking him out in front of me, and Nate felt it. He glanced down at me then back at Natalie. “Name the date and time,” he began, and my stomach dropped. Natalie’s face beamed in triumph, while mine fell in defeat, but hers matched mine instantly when Nate finished with, “and Poppy and I will be there with Devin and Calla.”

Ha!

Natalie 1 Poppy 1.

I turned my head to grin at Cali and Sienna. They’d moved to the side to catch our interaction. Studying the enemy like any good Wallflower did for her comrade in arms. It was a Wallflower code. Right after Wallflowers don’t swear when they could avoid it was Wallflowers have each other’s backs against friend or foe, Cali had informed me the day before. And Natalie was a foe to any self-respecting Wallflower worth her metal.

“Can’t wait,” Nat, as I’d come to think of her because she was as pesky as the tiny fly, answered cheerfully.

A deputy finally came around the corner with Bernice and led her to the door where Eunice and Odis Lee were waiting to take her home. Bernice blew us all a kiss, then exited as the deputy came over to our group. “Will you ladies follow me?”

Knox stepped forward before we could move and flashed a badge. “I’m Agent Taylor. I want to be in on the questioning of my daughters.”

The deputy took his badge and inspected it. “I’ll have to ask Sheriff Moore.”

“Do that,” Knox ordered. “But let him know if he declines, I’m taking them out of here and not coming back until we have counsel.”

The deputy stared at Knox a moment then turned his attention to another officer. He handed my father’s badge to the man, mumbled, “Pull his file,” then turned back.

My eyes shot to Nate’s then to Sienna’s. “We don’t have anything to hide,” I said, miffed at Knox. “We were just mindin’ our own business when we heard a scream. Why does he have to come with us?”

“I know you don’t,” Knox answered, “but this is a high-profile case, and I’m not letting them interrogate either of my daughters without council or me in the room. After all the shit that went down yesterday, I’m not taking any chances.”

I looked back at Nate for direction and caught Natalie scribbling in a notepad, and almost struck her again. I’d forgotten with all the byplay she was a reporter. The last thing I wanted was the world knowing a cotton-picking thing about me or mine. Especially the part where I’d been abandoned because my biker grandfather killed my mother.

“No comment,” I shouted in panic. “Off the record. And throw in any of the amendments that pertain to the press keepin’ their mouth shut where my family is concerned,” I continued, then addressed Cali. “You know about everything. Give me an amendment that keeps her from printing anything she just heard.”

Nate reached out and nabbed her notepad and tore off the page she’d been writing on. Natalie jerked in surprise and tried to snatch it back, screeching, “Nate!”

“She said, ‘no comment.’ You print a fuckin’ word of that and your boss and I will have words,” Nate answered in his best growly voice. I could have kissed him in front of everyone and not cared. With tongue.

Natalie jerked her head back at his anger, somehow surprised he would threaten her that way, then directed her attention toward me. “The First Amendment guarantees freedom of the press,” she informed me in a tone that said I was an idiot. “It means we have the right and duty to report the truth, so the people can make an informed decision. You can’t suppress my constitutional rights.”

The truth as they saw it, I thought, but arguing with the media was a lost cause. They deemed themselves truth seekers, avengers of the people. Then they twisted the people’s words so only their opinion was heard, while damning the rest of us because we didn’t eat, sleep, or bleed their cause. I was sick of their manipulations, so I leaned in and offered, with my best biker babe princess DNA attitude, “Yeah? Well, the Second Amendment gives me the right to bear arms. To protect myself and my family against threats.” Then I added, because it sounded smart and she’d made me feel dumb, “Foreign or domestic.”

I finished my not so carefully worded threat to rip her hair out with another threat, because that’s how I roll.

“You print a word of what you heard today about me or my family, and I’ll consider it a domestic threat.”

I should have added, “And I’ve got a shotgun loaded with rock salt if you come near Nate again,” but I was confident I’d made my point.

When I glanced at Nate to gauge his reaction, he was grinning from ear to ear.

Natalie 1 Poppy 2.

_______________

“That woman’s wound a little too tight,” Natalie mumbled as Poppy was led away with Knox and the Wallflowers in tow. “Are you sure I’m safe?” Nate looked down at the hand she’d placed on his arm, then noticed she’d moved closer to him as if she needed his protection.

Natalie had been a cute kid when he’d met her all those years ago. She was a feisty go-getter when it came to a story. But she’d lacked the killer instinct needed in a journalist. Back then she always told the truth. Not her version of the truth, but word-for-word, no variation of the facts, truth. If more journalists held to that motto, the world would be a far better place. But they didn’t, and because of that he figured her chances of being picked up by a paper or media outlet were slim.

Looking at her now, at the change in her from mousy kid to her version of what she thought a journalist should look like, made his lips thin. She’d clearly embraced what it took to make it in her line of work, and it pissed him off for the goofy kid he once knew. He’d liked Natalie Rhodes, keeper of the truth. This plastic, red painted, hard-nosed imitation of the kid he once knew, pissed him off.

Nate removed her hand from his arm and stepped back to put distance between them. He knew from the way women stared his size and looks were appealing to them. He didn’t give much thought to it though. Up until he’d met Poppy, he wasn’t looking for someone to complete his life. But it didn’t mean he was oblivious to the looks he received.

He also wasn’t oblivious to the fact that Devin and Nate were men women would call attractive, and Natalie had barely given them the time of day. She’d flirted in that way women did when they had men’s attention, but instead of flirting with Nate, her eyes had grown warm and she’d communicated, in all the ways women could; she wanted him. He’d hoped eight years would have cooled her infatuation, but clearly it hadn’t.

On the night he’d graduated college, she’d thrown herself into his arms and slammed her mouth over his. It had been a last-ditch effort on her part to show him how she felt. It had taken him a full minute to pry her hands from around his neck, all the while dodging her mouth. She’d been like a kid sister to him, and he’d been shocked by her move. Tried to let her down gently because he hadn’t wanted to hurt her feelings.

But now he didn’t care.

She was just someone he used to know. Someone he didn’t think he even liked because she’d caved to the demands of her chosen profession. And if the vibes she was throwing off were an indication of how much she’d changed, he worried she’d use her position as a reporter to drive a wedge between him and Poppy.

Nate looked away from Natalie toward the hallway Poppy was headed down. She’d stopped at the entrance and looked back. Her eyes were on Natalie. She had the same look on her face when Natalie had stopped flirting with him and started communicating, not so subtly, that she still wanted him.

He’d turned his head to check on Poppy once Natalie agreed not to press charges, and his gut had dropped at the look on her face. She’d clearly caught on what Natalie was about, so he’d turned his back on the cause of her distress and headed straight to Poppy. He’d made a promise to her, and himself that he would do everything in his power to heal her, and trusting he’d never look at another woman, or cheat on her like her ex had done, was a big part of earning that trust.

Seeing the distress on Poppy’s face again, Nate moved without thought and stopped in front of her. She tipped her head back and he saw a blankness in her eyes. He hated that look. Hated why she had it, so he tagged her behind the head and slammed his mouth over hers. He didn’t care they had an audience, he only cared that he kissed that fucking expression off her face until she’d melted into his body.

“She means nothin’ to me,” he whispered against her lips. “Not a goddamned thing. She can play all the games she wants, but it won’t change the way I feel about you.”

Poppy’s hooded gaze searched his, looking for any hint of a lie. He didn’t breathe again until a smile pulled gently across her mouth and she pressed her lips to his, quick but effective in communicating she believed him, whispering back, “Okay.”

He squeezed once and let her go when Knox cleared his throat and glared at Nate. He held his glare while Poppy slipped from his arms. He knew why Knox hated him. Knew his time was running out to explain to Poppy what he’d done in his past. But there hadn’t been time. Poppy’s emotional state had taken precedent. He could only hope the man kept his mouth shut until he could get her home. If the details of his past came to light from someone other than him, he was afraid of what might happen.

His gut burned at the thought and he glared harder at Knox. If he didn’t think she needed closure with the man, he’d do everything he could to run him out of town. But he also needed Knox to stick around until Poppy’s mess was sorted. Her aunt had to know the name of the man who’d abused her. And as much as it killed him to admit it, he needed Knox to run interference for him.

Nate scowled when Sheriff Justin Moore stepped into the hallway, a lazy grin pulling across his mouth at the sight of all three women. He was a good-looking man and knew it. Didn’t hesitate to turn his fucking smile up whenever the Wallflowers were around.

Fuck but he hated that man.

He felt Devin and Bo at his side, also watching their women disappear into a room. “Maybe we should sic Natalie on Moore. If they hook up, it will serve two purposes,” Nate mumbled.

He jerked his head at Moore when the man flicked two fingers at their group before taking a file from his deputy and opening it.

“Two purposes? Is one keepin’ Calla and Sienna from wringin’ Natalie’s neck?” Bo questioned. Nate hadn’t paid attention to what the other Wallflowers thought of Natalie, but clearly her flirting had been noticed by all three.

“Nope. It’ll keep me from shovin’ my fist down Moore’s throat, while easin’ Poppy’s worry.”

“Saw that,” Devin muttered. “She’s got baggage from the ex, I’d bet.”

Nate looked at his friend. “Fuckin’ steamer trunks full. From the ex. The dad . . . A fuckin’—” He stopped then rolled his lips between his teeth, pressing down to control his temper. He’d promised Poppy he would wait, but he wasn’t gonna sit there and do nothing. He needed to find the guy. If he wasn’t in prison for doing the exact same shit to another child, then he needed to be caught. Poppy couldn’t see the big picture at the moment. She’d programmed herself to keep her mouth shut. It was typical of child abuse victims. He knew firsthand because he lived it every day for sixteen years. The shame of revealing the abuse. Fear the perpetrator would harm them again or their family. And the guilt and self-blame that somehow it was your fault. All of it paralyzed you and stole your dignity until the last thing you would do is report it. He didn’t want Poppy living with any more regret. But he knew she would, once she calmed down, if he didn’t find this guy quickly.

Nate looked to Bo then Devin. He’d deal with the consequences when and if it arose. Poppy wasn’t thinking straight, so he’d have to think for her. She was letting her fear guide her actions. “I need to find a man,” he began, speaking low so no one could hear him. “He would have hung out with Shirley Gentry when Poppy was a child. We’re talkin’ sixteen years ago. He’s gonna be somewhere between the age of say forty to sixty. Probably has priors for molesting a child or even rape.”

Bo stiffened and so did Devin beside him. Then they both hissed out, “Fuck,” correctly interpreting why he needed it.

“We’ve got ears in the room,” Nate returned, jerking his head toward Natalie. All three men looked over their shoulders at the woman. She hadn’t moved from where she stood when Nate walked away, but she was watching them and looked to be formulating a plan. If the plan involved trying to come between him and Poppy, he’d forget their friendship and she’d become enemy number two, right after the asshole who’d stolen Poppy’s innocence.

It was time to handle one problem, so he could focus on the rest. With that in mind, Nate called out in a tone that brokered no argument, “Good seein’ you, Natalie, but I think you’ll understand when I say I’ve got no comment. That Poppy’s got no comment. Our plans to catch up have been delayed—indefinitely.”

“But, Nate!”

“I’m askin’ you,” he continued, his expression fierce and final, “to keep away from me and stay the hell away from Poppy. If you can’t honor that request, then rest assured I’ll make your life a livin’ hell. Do you understand me?”

Her eyes grew wide as he spoke and swear to Christ it looked like her bottom lip even trembled. He might have felt like a dick in another place and time, but not today. It was his job to protect Poppy. Whatever crush she may have had on him eight years ago should have burned out by now. Since it hadn’t, he didn’t want her anywhere near his woman. They’d all learned the hard way what happens when a woman became obsessed. She was sitting in lockup and a man was dead.

Natalie picked up her purse to leave, her eyes filled with tears. Nate turned his back to emphasize his resolve. He didn’t say another word until she’d pushed through the front doors and the still clamoring crowd, waiting for a news bite.

“One enemy down, two more to go,” Nate growled, praying to God she took his threat seriously.

“Like déjà vu,” Devin sighed.

“Is this Gale Brown all over again?” Bo asked.

Nate looked at Bo. “If she is, I’ll handle it. First, find me the monster who hurt my woman.”

Bo paused a beat then whipped out his phone and stalked away. Then Devin did the same and began typing on his phone. He knew how they both felt about Poppy. They wouldn’t hesitate to put themselves out there for her. She’d put her life on the line for both their women. She’d taken out Devin’s gun-toting stalker with fucking driftwood and jumped in front of a bullet meant for Sienna. And she did this because she figured their lives were more important than hers. He knew that mind-set. Knew it from his own fucked-up history. She thought her life meant less than the other Wallflowers because she saw herself as broken and worthless.

That state of mind was enemy number three. Once he found the monster who put those thoughts in her head, she’d be able to heal. But he needed to get in there fast. Prove to her she could be whole with him standing by her side. That there was no shame or guilt in being a victim.

She felt less of a woman because that asshole took her innocence. Froze when touched because it reminded her of the past. But she hadn’t frozen once when Nate had experimented earlier, running his hands across her arms and legs to gauge her response. Kissing her to the point of wanting to rip her clothes off, expecting her to shut down while he was doing it. But she hadn’t. And he’d seen the wonder in her eyes when she hadn’t, so enemy number three was going down, even if it killed him.

_______________

“Are you three cursed?” Justine Moore, sheriff of Chatham County asked with a crooked smile. He’d kept us waiting in that room for more than ten minutes, finally strolling in like the good old boy he was, with files in his hands. He was a good-looking man with eyes that seemed like they were smiling. The crinkle lines at the sides indicated he did smile and did it often with gusto. But he had a weird sense of humor if he thought anything the girls and I had been through was a reason to laugh.

“Cursed is a good way of puttin’ it,” Cali replied.

He scanned the three of us, then his attention moved to Knox, who was standing behind Sienna’s and my chairs. “And you’re the father of these two women?” He indicated Sienna and me. I had no idea why he was asking or what it had to do with Rachel Scott’s kidnapping.

I tilted my head and looked up at Knox. He looked between Sienna and me and smiled that dang smile of his. The one that said he was proud of the fact we were his daughters. The one that cut like a knife when I saw it because I wanted to believe it, but I couldn’t. “Yeah,” he answered just as proudly as his smile.

Moore nodded then opened a file. “ATF. Spent the last twenty some odd years in California, so I’m guessin’ you’re their father in the loosest sense of the word.”

Knox stiffened at the insult, and Sienna drew in a deep breath. I wanted to smile at the sheriff. Maybe even kiss him. Instead, I confirmed Moore’s investigative powers. “He’s my father in DNA only.”

“Why are we discussing my relationship with my daughters, instead of focusing on what they saw last night?”

Moore had lifted his eyes to me when I answered, but they shot to Knox with contained annoyance when he questioned the sheriff’s lack of interrogation.

“I like to know who I’m dealin’ with at all times. You ordered my deputies to include you in this interrogation, and I don’t take kindly to strangers orderin’ my men around. I know these women. Have dealt with them twice. I like them. I’ll also add that when I was diggin’ through everyone’s background during the Bullwinkle investigation, neither of their backgrounds came back listin’ you as their father. So, you’ll understand that I’m fuckin’ curious why women I know and like have a father I’ve never heard of givin’ my men orders.”

“You handled the murders at Bullwinkle Ranch?”

“Yeah,” Moore confirmed. “It’s my jurisdiction.”

Interest began to play in my father’s eyes. He was calculating something, and I didn’t like it. “Are you satisfied with the outcome? You sure you didn’t have any other suspects?”

Moore looked at me then back at Knox. I had a sinking feeling where this was going, because it was obvious my father hated Nate, and Nate had been out of our line of sight for about five minutes. Something we had told Moore during the investigation when asked where everyone was at the time of Clint Black’s murder. But we also knew Nate was in the house when I was in the cabin. A cabin Black’s murderer was hiding in while waiting for me to leave. So, Red’s confession or not, I knew Nate was innocent because it took longer than five minutes to walk to the cabin, kill Black, then get back to us.

“Forensics doesn’t lie. All available suspects were accounted for at the time of death.”

“Forensics can be off,” Knox argued. “It’s a science, not one-hundred-percent accurate.”

“Yeah, it can,” Moore agreed, “but a confession from Black’s killer to your own daughters is pretty fuckin’ solid. Unless you wanna call them liars.”

In his apparent investigation into what happened at Bullwinkle Ranch, Knox must have missed that tidbit of information because he grew tight like a coiled snake. “He could have been in on it with them,” Knox threw out, hell-bent on incriminating Nate for a murder he didn’t commit because something in his past tweaked my father. I stared openmouthed at Knox, too stunned to reply to his ridiculous implication, but not Sienna. It seemed even she, after being excited to have Knox back in our lives, had lost her patience with him.

“Stop it,” she whispered from her seat next to me. “Nate’s a good man. You don’t know him like we do.”

“One of the best I know,” Cali joined in, glaring up at Knox.

“The best man I know,” I also stated with heat in my eyes. “I’m fed up to here with your constant belittling of Nate. If you say another word against him, I’ll never speak to you again. Do you understand? Lay. Off. Nate.”

Knox’s hands shot up, and he grabbed his hair, tearing through it in frustration. His eyes whipped around the room looking for what, I didn’t know. When nothing materialized out of the blue, with a big fat arrow pointing to Nate, he ignored my warning and grew desperate. “You know I’m right,” he growled, pinning Moore with his eyes. “You know his record.”

“I know you think you’re right.”

“He’s no good for her.”

“Not your call or mine, but everything I know about Jacobs says he’s a good man, who made the most of a bad situation.”

My father was silent for a moment then his eyes shot to me. He looked desperate. I could see his panic.

“Why?” I asked. “Why are you doing this?”

His face turned to rage. “Because he’s a killer. He killed before and he’ll kill again. It’s what they always do!”

I jerked back as if I’d been hit. Silence filled the room as the girls and I stared at Knox in disbelief. I stood suddenly and slapped him across the face, disgusted this man was my father. “Get out of my life!” I shrieked, done with his lies.

Knox grabbed my hands to thwart my next blow and hauled me against his chest. “He beat his father and put him in a coma. He died three days later. He’s not the man you think he is.”

“Liar!”

“It’s not a lie,” he bellowed.

Pushing off his chest, I rounded on Moore as bile threatened the base of my throat. “Tell him!” I demanded. “Tell him he’s wrong,” but I knew. I knew he was telling the truth because I’d seen the haunted look in Nate’s eyes when he thought no one was looking. I saw it in the mirror daily. It took years for that look to take hold. Which meant it was as old as mine.

“His father was abusive,” Moore began, and I braced against the table, curling my finger into my palm so I could tear at the skin to keep my anxiety in check. “He beat Nate and his mother from the time he was little. He went too far when Nate was sixteen. He stepped in to save his mother, like he always did, but Nate had grown from a scrawny kid into a man early. He was acquitted of all charges in light of the constant abuse, and the fact his father put his mother in a wheelchair for the rest of her life.”

My hand flew to my mouth as the acid began to churn. Nate had been abused just like I had. I wanted to scream. To throw up. Images of a younger Nate being tormented, by someone who should have protected him, sent my feet flying toward the door. I had to get out of there, or I’d lose it.

I threw the door open and saw Nate standing at the end of the hall like he was waiting for me. His head was down, looking at his boots, and I saw the little boy he’d once been. The one who protected his mother from a monster. I did the only thing I could to alleviate the anger burning like fire through my veins, I flew straight for him. He needed to know he was a hero and not a killer. That my father was wrong about him. He’d done what I couldn’t. He’d been brave and faced the dragon in the dark.

His head whipped up at the sound of my pounding feet. He braced just in time as I launched myself at him.

He growled, “Jesus,” at my impact. I climbed his body, wrapping my legs around his waist, then I buried my head in his neck, sobbing, “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” into his skin.

One of his arms banded around my back and the other cupped my head. “What the fuck happened in there?”

I only had to say two words. “Your father.”

Nate’s grip on me loosened in shock. I was afraid he would let me go, say it was none of my business. Instead, he tightened his arms quickly and he buried his own face into my neck, holding on.

“I’m so sorry,” I hiccupped in his neck.

“I know you are.”

“I’d have beat him up too,” I kept going.

“No, you wouldn’t,” he breathed against my skin.

I pulled back and looked at him through tear-soaked eyes. “I have biker babe princess DNA running through my veins. I so would have beaten him up!”

Nate blinked, then smiled. Actually, smiled in the face of my knowing he’d caused his father’s death.

“There’s my Kitten,” he mumbled with what looked like pride, then he reached up and wiped the tears from my cheek. “I take it your father broke the news to you?”

I nodded, then buried my face in his neck again and squeezed my legs. I was never letting him go. He needed me as much as I needed him. He needed to feel special. Know that even though our childhoods may have broken us at times, they didn’t define us. I could have become a drug addict or a runaway after what happened to me, but I’d had Shirley to take care of and my art to see me through. Nate, it seemed, had his mother. But those demons in his eyes told me he still had baggage. Just like I had. He said he was gonna fix me. Well, I was gonna fix him too. Then we both could wear the scars of our pasts as badges of honor, rather than defeat.

“Are you done bein’ interrogated?”

I shook my head. “Moore hasn’t started yet.”

“You feel up to goin’ back in there?” he asked low, his tone protective. I squeezed my legs and my arms at the same time, then pulled my head out of his neck and placed my lips against his. “I think I could do just about anything if you’re with me.”

His eyes flashed with heat, the color deepening in response to my declaration. He took my mouth with a hunger I’d hadn’t felt before. I opened for him instantly and attacked him back. I may have even ground myself on his stomach when the throbbing between my legs returned, which was a first for me. Nate moaned softly in reaction to the grinding, and hope did a fist pump! I’d never made a man moan before.

Nate dropped my legs to the floor then held on while I found my balance. “Let’s get this done and get the fuck out of here,” he growled, then led me back down the hall. Moore and Knox were watching Nate and me as we approached. Moore was grinning, satisfaction etched across his face. Knox looked sick, and I didn’t care.

“Is there gonna be a problem in my station?” Moore asked Nate.

Nate glared at Knox. “I’m sittin’ in on this interrogation. If he doesn’t upset Poppy again, you’ll have no problems from me.”

“That won’t be a problem,” I said, curling into his side, “because I want Knox out of the room.”

“Poppy,” Knox started, but I put my hand up to stop him.

“I told you if you said one more word against Nate; I was done with you. So now I’m done. Go back to California, Daddy. This town isn’t big enough for both of us.”

I started to move away from Knox, but I stopped when I saw Sienna standing in the door with a look of utter desolation on her face.

Dangitalltoheck.

Once again, my ADD had led me astray. I’d forgotten Knox was Sienna’s father too.

“He’s not just your father,” she whispered with an edge to her voice, looking between Knox and me. “Please don’t go back to California.”

Petunias!

In my quest to replace curse words with a suitable option, I’d remembered a book where the heroine had replaced the F-word with petunias. It was the perfect replacement for a Wallflower, who had to adhere to the code ‘have each other’s back with either friend or foe’ for her sister.

That made Knox her friend and my foe. I’d have to learn to bend to her wishes, while keeping my distance.

Effin’ Petunias!

“You’re right,” I conceded to Sienna. I’d ignored their connection in a selfish desire to be rid of him and all he represented. “But I’m warnin’ you now, you need to keep him away from me if you don’t like the word petunias!”