Page 106 of I'll Keep Her Safe

My phone buzzes, surprising us both. It’s late, but Violet is obviously still up, and Poppy reads the message, a wicked grin curling along her mouth.

“Violet and Daisy will meet me tomorrow after work to figure out the details of the plan. He won’t know what’s hit him.” Then, with a weighted sigh, Poppy shoves to her feet. “Guess we should try and get some sleep.”

“Yeah.” I rise too, yawning. “At least you can sleep in here again. With me.”

She looks at me with a faint smile. “That’s one good thing, I guess.”

We get ready for bed in silence, both of us absorbed in our thoughts. But after tossing and turning for an hour, Poppy whispers, “Are you still awake?”

“Yes,” I grumble. My mind is too busy churning to sleep.

“Me too.” I feel her sit up beside me in the dark. “Let’s go out on your bike.”

Despite myself, I grunt a laugh. “What? It’s like 2 a.m.”

“So? The streets will be quiet. It will make us feel better. Get us out of our heads.”

I sit up too, rubbing my eyes. She’s right. Of course she is. How does she know that’s exactly what I need?

“I love you so much,” I say, pulling her into me. She sighs, pressing a kiss to my mouth, and we wordlessly rise from the bed and pull on our gear.

The streetsarequiet as we peel out of Brooklyn Heights and head through Dumbo, onto the Brooklyn Bridge. It’s exhilarating riding across the bridge at this time of night, with the glittering city laid out before us and Poppy’s arms tight around my waist. For a few moments, I forget everything that’s bothering me. All that exists is the cool night air rushing over us, the water below, and Poppy at my side.

No matter what happens, I have her, I remind myself. And that will always be enough.

36

Wyatt

Irub my knuckles nervously as I sit on Bailey and Dean’s sofa, waiting for my daughter to get off work. Dean let me in when I showed up, even though I’m sure Bailey would have told him what she’d discovered, and I’m grateful that he’s at least giving me a chance.

Whether Bailey will is another question entirely.

He hands me a beer from the fridge, then lowers himself onto the leather sofa beside me, flicking on a Giants game. We drink in silence while I glance at the clock, wondering what’s taking Bailey so long. It’s after eight.

“Does she always work this late?” I ask.

Dean nods, not glancing away from the TV. “Most nights.”

I frown. Bailey’s too young to be spending every night at the office.

I glance up when I hear the door open, my heart leaping into my throat. When Bailey rounds the corner to find me on her sofa, she stops short.

“Dad…” She stares at me in shock, setting her bag on the counter. Then, as if remembering she’s mad at me, her brows slash together and she folds her arms. “What are you doing here?”

“We need to talk, honey.”

She huffs, her gaze sliding to Dean. “Did you let him in?”

“Of course.” Dean gives her a patient smile. “Should I have made him wait in the hall?”

Her jaw tightens, then relaxes. “I guess not.” She looks back at me. “Alright then. Talk.”

Dean senses his cue, turning off the TV and rising from the sofa. “I’ll walk to the pizza place on the corner. Vegetarian for you, right?” he asks me, and I stifle a laugh. Even with Bailey on the verge of kicking me out, Dean’s polite enough to fetch me dinner. He’s such a good guy.

“Yes, please.” I pull my wallet from my pocket, handing over a few bills. “It’s on me.”

He opens his mouth to protest and Bailey cuts him a look. With a nod, Dean stuffs his feet into his sneakers and slips out the door.

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