“You okay?” she asked softly. “You seem tense.”
He shrugged. “Waiting.”
“Aren’t we all?” She glanced over her shoulder toward Noah, and as though he felt the weight of that look, his head lifted.
Adam wasn’t surprised when the couple moved to join Lana at the bar. “Anybody heard anything else?” he asked once Noah had settled between the two women. It had started that way. Noah. Lana. Only David was missing.
Full circle.
“He’s not at the police station,” Noah said softly. He shrugged. “I went by there, looking for him.”
“Maybe…” Lana’s voice trailed off. “Maybe he’s at Sybil’s.”
They lapsed into silence and then Noah sighed. “I don’t know. He was off the other day when we were working. Saw her, and it was like he went to stone. I didn’t ask, but when I went to check on Taneisha after she’d woken up, she mentioned she’d gone out to talk to him. David ended things.”
“Well. He’s a dumbass,” Lana said grimly.
“I’m still trying to wrap my mind around what people are saying happened. I mean … this Sarah, she was practically like his sister, right?” Trinity said, looking down the bar at Lana, then at Noah before glancing at Adam. “And she attacked Sybil.”
“Obsession.” Adam swiped his rag down the bar. “It does crazy things to your head.” Then he slid his gaze to Lana. “Trust me, I know.”
He’d spent twenty years obsessing, hadn’t he?
“It’s not just obsession.” Noah looked up. “There was more there. If that’s what happened, if she did try to hurt Sybil because of David, then there was more than obsession. She wasn’t … whole…”—he reached up and tapped his brow—“up here to begin with. She obsessed. Wanted what she couldn’t have. Saw things that weren’t there. And something pushed her over.”
“Like what?” Lana put the iPad down with a thunk. “I mean, David left. It’s pretty obvious that he wasn’t going to settle down and be a happy little Amish guy. That isn’t who he is.”
“Exactly,” Noah said softly. “And there she was, feeling abandoned and confused, because everything she had painted in her head was falling apart. He’d rather come back home to this place where people had treated him like hell than be there with her.”
Silence fell between them.
Somebody yelled for Adam and he turned away with a muttered curse.
The other three remained silent.
Waiting.
* * *
Jensen needed a drink. A drink. Then bed. Then sex. Or maybe sex, then drink, then bed. No. Drink. Sex. Bed.
But Dean was still at the station, arguing about warrants and arguing with judges, and he wasn’t going to be home for a little while. But she was done.
Sarah, for now, was locked behind bars. Bail would be high.
The PD had arrived and practically glued her mouth shut, not that it was necessary. Once Jensen had left the room, Sarah had refused to say anything, but that weird little smile hadn’t left her face.
She had something to do with Peter’s disappearance.
Jensen knew it as well as she knew her own name.
Maybe she’d—
“Stop it!” She groaned and pressed the heels of her hands to the sides of her head. Up ahead a car was pulling out of a spot in front of Shakers, and on instinct she nosed into it. She needed a drink. She’d just leave her car there. Have a drink. Walk home. It was only two blocks away, and she seriously doubted anybody would tow her car.
“Abuse of authority,” she muttered, rubbing the tension gathering at the back of her neck. “Damn straight.”
She’d been working ten to twelve hours a day for the past few months, and now she finally saw the light at the end of the tunnel. She could be lazy for one damn night.
Of course, she should have realized that if she was in the mood for a drink so was half the damn town. Brooding, she stood in the doorway of Shakers a few minutes later, aware of the odd stillness that had fallen across the crowd. The noise had dropped by half since she’d walked in, and as she took one step, then another, she could feel people staring at her.
Her brother, Tate, stood slumped against the bar and he grinned at her, tipping a bottle in her direction. She smirked, and as she passed him she said, “Man, you’d think these people never saw a cop before.”
A few people laughed and some of the conversations resumed.
She breathed a little easier as she made her way down the bar, looking for an open seat.
She just about swore and turned around when she found one. It was the only one, too. Right next to the one group of people she had no desire to talk to.
Planting her feet, she crossed her arms over her chest and eyed them. Noah looked up first, glancing over his shoulder. A golden-blond brow slid up and then his new wife, Trinity, glanced up. Lana barely spared Jensen a look, but she wasn’t fooled by the casual lack of interest. “If I didn’t know better, I’d get a little paranoid, coming in here to find the three of you.”
“Well, technically, it’s four.” Noah nodded toward the bar.
She swung her head around and sighed as she saw Adam. He was mixing up drinks, but his gaze slid her way, a glint in his eyes.
“Of course.” Head pounding, she took the stool and stared at the bottles lining the back of the bar. Have a drink and relax or get hammered and tell Dean to be ready to save her from herself? Decisions, decisions. “You know, everything comes back to you guys.”
“No.” Lana leaned forward, her elbows braced on the scarred surface as she stared down the bar at Jensen. “It comes back to me and David. The others were just caught in the mess of it. But if we wanted to be fair, it all goes back to the sons of bitches who started Cronus. Let’s lay the blame where it belongs.”
Jensen smiled sadly. “I’m not blaming you. It’s just a weird circle that might finally come to its weird little end.” Because she knew why they were here, she waved Adam down. “Wine. Something red and sweet—I hate that dry stuff. And then five minutes of your time.”
Adam looked out at the bar, an amused grin lighting his face. He was ridiculously handsome, and half the female population had probably lost their panties because of that grin. Now, of course, he had focused all of that heat on one woman. It didn’t surprise Jensen. She’d always known Adam ran from demons. That the past was tied up in Lana wasn’t much of a surprise, looking back.
“Oh, I can spare five minutes,” he drawled, looking back at Jensen. “I’ll spend thirty minutes catching up, but anything to help out the law.”
“Just smile at the ladies, Casanova,” she said dryly. “They’ll forgive you if the drinks come a little late.”
He snorted. “Clearly, you haven’t seen how impatient people get when they wanna get their drink on.”
* * *
Adam took the five minutes, and he took them away from the bar.
The break room was quieter—marginally. He stood with the door shut, his back to it.
Lana stood next to him and she refused to think about how her stomach jumped and lurched. David was fine. She knew that. He had to be, because if he weren’t somebody would have heard about it and that meant Noah would have heard.
That was just how things worked in this town.
So David was fine—
“I can’t tell you what happened earlier, because we’re still investigating,” Jensen said, interrupting the ramble of Lana’s thoughts. “But…” She stopped, cocking her head as though she was picking her words carefully. Finally, she focused her gaze on Lana.
Lana felt the impact of that look to the soles of her feet.
“I understand what the two of you tried to do. And I understand why you came back, why he decided to make his presence known. You realized it wasn’t done and you couldn’t leave it like that.” Taking a deep breath, Jensen finished the rest in a rush: “It’s done. It’s really done.”
She looked from each of them, a sad smile on her face. “
All of you ended up tangled in this mess and you’re connected to it. It’s not over yet, but they are done.”
A knot in Lana’s chest loosened and her eyes started to burn. But she fought it all back. She hadn’t heard what she needed to hear. Not yet. “What about David?”
Lifting a brow, Jensen asked levelly, “What do you mean?”
“Don’t give me that.” Lana tucked her hands in her back pockets, staring at the detective, smiling coolly despite the knot in her throat. “You know how this town works. Everybody and their brother knows something went down at Sybil’s today. And if Sybil was involved, David was.”
“Where she is, there you’ll find him,” Jensen murmured, tipping her head back and staring up at the ceiling. “Yeah. He was involved. Again, I can’t go into detail. I’m not surprised you haven’t heard from him. But he’s fine. I suppose all of it will come out soon. But he’s fine.”
She moved toward the door, pausing when Adam didn’t step aside. “May I go?” She looked down at the glass she’d brought back into the break room with her. “Oddly enough, I seem to have drunk my wine already.”
Adam stepped aside, but Lana put her hand on the door. “Where is he?”
“David?” A smile curved Jensen’s face. “The last I heard, he was over at Sybil’s.”
Lana’s eyes widened.
Jensen grinned. “A couple of uniforms dropped them off. All three of them, at Sybil’s place. And David followed her inside. I guess maybe he wasn’t burning his bridges quite as spectacularly as I’d thought he was.”
Lana moved away from the door and Jensen paused before she headed out. “Full circle for all of you, huh?”
Just before Jensen shut the door, she heard a phone ringing. Noah’s, she thought. The ring was “The Imperial March”—he was always getting phone calls.
* * *
In the doorway, her head propped against the doorjamb, Sybil watched the two boys.
Darnell had spent nearly an hour on the phone with his mom. That was after they’d spent nearly an hour up at the hospital, too. Sybil had told Taneisha the boys were her heroes.
She’d meant it.
Somewhere off in the quiet of the house was another one, although he’d never believe that.
He’d come back, but she still wasn’t sure if he meant to stay this time.
If he didn’t, she was done.
She’d already decided what she’d do.
She was going to talk to the Realtor, see about putting her mother’s house up for sale. And she’d leave. She was also going to talk to a lawyer about getting custody of Drew, if it came to that. Layla might not fight her on it, but if she had to, she’d do it. He belonged with her and all three of them knew it. Drew did; Layla did. Sybil knew it as well.
If David would let it happen, the three of them could have a family, be happy, right here.
But if he wouldn’t, then she was done chasing after him.
Hearing a soft sound at the end of the hall, she looked up.
He stood there, hands loose at his sides, watching her. Most of his face was lost to the shadows, but the light streaming through the small window high up on the wall fell across his eyes, and only his eyes. The intensity of that gaze stole the breath from her lungs. So much that she felt her chest growing tight.
Looking back into the room where the boys slept, she gripped the doorknob in a death grip. “You said you had to make some calls earlier. Did you?”
That had been nearly three hours ago. Weird time to think of it, but she was fumbling, reaching for anything to occupy her mind now that the boys were tucked in bed and she had nothing else to keep her from turning to him, reaching for him.
Begging him.
She hadn’t stooped that low before.
She wasn’t going to now.
She hoped.
“Yes,” he murmured, his voice so low she barely heard it.
The boards creaked under his feet as he came closer. “Come downstairs.”
She closed her eyes, swallowed hard.
She’d have to do that, eventually. She couldn’t just linger in the hallway and stare at the kids all night.
After a minute, she pried her fingers away from the door and then turned toward him. His hand moved to the small of her back as she started down the hall, and she was almost painfully aware of his touch, aware of the way his palm lay flat against her skin.
She was quiet, waiting for him to start in on one of his I should leave. I should go. But he was oddly silent, even after she tucked herself in her chair, arms folded over her chest. He moved to the window, staring outside. Moonlight shone in on him.
Something’s different, Sybil thought. She didn’t know what. Couldn’t explain it. But it was different.
Then he turned his head to look at her. A fist slammed into her heart. There was a faint smile on his face.
A real one. Not that bitter slant, not the mockery of a smile. A faint smile, like he’d thought of something that amused him. Swallowing, she shifted up, sat a little straight as he pushed off the wall and started toward her. She almost asked him what he was smiling about but decided she didn’t want to know.
“What will happen with Sarah?”
That stopped him in his tracks and the smile faded. Now his face was stark, set in those harsh, familiar lines. “I don’t know.” He looked down, stared at the floor. “She killed Louisa, Brumley, Max. She killed Abraham.”
David lifted his head, staring at Sybil from under his lashes. “Abraham wasn’t her father. I didn’t know that until today. Her father…” He let the words trail off as he looked away, staring at something she couldn’t see. “Her father hurt her. I was told that he’d knocked her down once so hard she broke her arm when she fell. Abraham rescued her from that. And she killed him. Because he was in the way.”
Sybil came off the couch, shaking her head. “That isn’t your fault.”
“No.” He nodded. “Logically, I understand. It feels like it is, but logically … I know that. She was sick. She must have been that way all her life and none of us saw it. I never saw it. And I still wanted to kill her when I came in here and saw her holding a gun to you. I could have killed her.”
His gaze came back to Sybil. Her heart lurched, then started to bang against her ribs so hard, she had to struggle just to breathe. As he moved closer, the air in the room dwindled down to nothing. He reached up, touched her lips. “I don’t know what I would have done if she’d hurt you. If she’d taken you from me.”
Mouth dry, Sybil stood there, frozen.
He was even closer now. When had he gotten that close?
She didn’t know, but he seemed to surround her, arms locked over her shoulders, bracketing her in, his face filling her vision and the warm, dark scent of him flooding her senses. “David, I—”
“You told me to leave,” he said, cutting her off.
She swallowed. Yes.
He backed away, looked around. “I don’t feel like I know how to belong to anybody. To a family.”
“David, there’s no rule book. Families don’t come with instructions,” she said, forcing the words out. “We figure it out. We make it work.”
He turned and walked away.
Her heart ripped open and despite her intentions not to beg, she found herself following him. He didn’t head toward the door, though.
He went down the hall.
Toward her … bedroom?
He stood there. Looking inside. “I know where I feel like I belong,” he said, his voice gruff. “It’s with you.”
She scowled at his back. “With me … in my bedroom?”
He looked back at her. “With you. Anywhere.” Then he looked back, stared hard at her bed. “I hate the bed, though.”
And once more, he started to walk, edging around her and heading into the living room.
She found him staring outside.
“David, would you—”
He moved to the door at the exact time she heard a knock.
She shot a look at the clock. It was past eleven. “Who in the hell…”
Noah stood there.
Behind Noah was Adam.
And there was a third man, younger than the others. Narrowing her eyes, she moved in, frowning as she took in the simple blue shirt, the brown trousers, the hat that covered the dark bowl of his hair. He was familiar. Wait—
Thomas. That was Thomas. He worked with David on a lot of the projects when some of the Amish builders got involved.
“What’s going on?” she asked flatly.
David took her hand and tugged her outside. She was too confused to stop him, and then fifteen seconds later she yelped as her feet hit the cold concrete. “Damn it, it’s cold,” she said, jerking against his hand.
David just picked her up.
A sharp breath of air gusted out of her in shock. “Put me down. I can go get—”
He came to a stop at the foot of his truck and then he put her down, settling her so that she stood on his shoes. He wrapped his arms around her, his larger body warming hers.
She said nothing, staring into the back of the truck, puzzling through what lay in front of her.
“Abraham helped me build it. It was the first thing I ever made with my hands,” David said softly.
Sybil licked her lips as her gaze landed on the headboard. It was simple, the lines clean, masculine. “A bed.” She smiled. “This is your bed.”
“I don’t like yours.”
Wiggling around, she managed to work her arms around his neck. She stared into his eyes, resting her brow against his. “You don’t like my bed, so I get to keep yours? What else do I get?”
He reached up and caught one of her hands, guided it back down until he could press it to his heart. “You can’t have the bed unless I get to stay, too. You told me not to come back. Unless I came to stay.”
Her heart trembled. Sybil could feel it and everything else inside her was shaking, too.
“David?”
“You were right. And I’ve been an ass. I’m sorry,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her eyelids, her cheeks, ghosting one along her mouth before he moved to murmur in her ear, “I don’t feel like I’m good enough for you. I don’t feel like I ever will be. But I know I love you. I love you too much to let you go, so I’m going to just have to spend the rest of my life making myself good enough.”
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