Page 40 of Barron

“If you want to go inside, there’s a key under the terracotta pot by the kitchen door.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“No, why?”

He blew out a breath. Now he knew how the intruder got into her place. “I’ll tell you later.”

Barron dropped the phone in his pocket. “I need to meet up with Yoanni. She’s done for the day.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Trouble is at the gate. Will you be okay? I hate to leave you without backup.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve no intention of running into either one. Once I finish lining up the cabinets, I’ll slink out the back door. They’ll never hear me leave.”

“But what if Isolde tries to sneak in here?”

“She won’t. Not with Deacon so close, watching her every move.”

“All right, my man. Stay safe. I’ll catch up with you later.”

“Later.”

Barron dashed down the hallway. Just before he walked out, he paused at the computer room. “Shifter, I’m on my way to pickup Yoanni. I’ll call you later. Nice meeting y’all.” He waved and left, worried about the two people he cared for most in life. He’d protect his baby girl like a hawk, but this development with his best friend… Johnny G had never let on he was so in love with a girl ten years younger. And her maniacally possessive father gave him the shivers down his spine. His friend was in for a rough ride.

Barron reached Yoanni’s neighborhood in ten minutes. As he drove to her house, a wicked impulse to watch her in action prompted him to park down the block. It was a sneaky thing to do, but he had to confirm she obeyed his orders and not yessed him to death whenever he wasn’t present.

Once parked, he approached the house from the side yard to the kitchen door. Barron found the terracotta pot where she said the key would be, one step down from the doorway. He lifted the pot and found no key. With a jerk, he glanced at the door, touched it, and the door ever so gently opened a sliver. Every hair on his body stood at attention.

Pulling the Glock from the back of his pants, he racked the slide, pushed the door a little more, and silently walked inside. He wanted to exhale in shock, but he suppressed the reaction. Someone had gone out of his way to trash Yoanni’s kitchen. Shattered cups, dishes, and even her flower pots and mangled plants covered the tile floor. The intruder had thrown the cute flowery images she’d hung on her walls onto the floor. Heel-like smudges appeared on cracked glass, broken frames, and soiled prints. Carefully, he continued into the doorway connecting the kitchen to her small living room. Every piece of furniture lay sideways or upside down. Gibberish graffiti covered her walls except one. On this one, the words DIE BITCH, written at an angle, started at the floor and stopped at the ceiling.

A sudden shadow sped past at the corner of his eye. He ran after it, yelling, “Stop!” He jumped over the sofa, and the invader tucked and scurried around, trying to reach the front door. Shifting, Barron blocked the path. But this individual was smaller than he’d anticipated and slower. Pumping his legs, Barron lunged forward. On his way down, his curved fingers latched onto the runner’s pants. The invader rolled to the floor with a painful yelp.

Barron growled, “Got you now, motherfucker.” He crawled forward, caging the smaller form between his legs. He snatched the hoodie, but the invader wore a heavy ski mask. The two fought against each other, the intruder to keep the mask on, Barron to pull it up desperate to see the face underneath it. Before he could, a sharp pain struck the back of his head, and the world went black.

CHAPTER NINE

Lost in a daze, Yoanni stared out the window as Officer Billings turned the patrol car onto her street. Her thoughts whirled with images of what life with Barron during the next few days might be like. Since that crazy afternoon when she’d met him at the Dirt Road Saloon, her mind had played happy visions for her. In none of them did she have to speak or go through the embarrassment of explaining herself because Barron, being an experienced Daddy, instinctively guessed her thoughts and secret desires.

Sure, her mind loved fantasy. But she was about to enter reality.

Not the same thing at all.

“Do you remember my house?” she asked absently.

Billings nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

The request to use her first name came to her lips, but studying the officer’s intent profile as he focused on his job changed her mind. They weren’t buddies; she was a civilian, and he was in charge of her safety. Let it be.

“Your driveway is coming up,” he said. “I’ll pull in.”

She squinted, then gasped. “Wait! Something’s wrong.”

He slowed the patrol car. “Where? What is it?”

“There. The door is open. Do you see it?”

“I do. Before I call for backup, didn’t you say your boyfriend was waiting for you?”

“Yes.” She swallowed. “He’d never leave the door that way. Something happened. I feel it in my bones.”

Instead of going up her driveway, Billings wedged the patrol car between the street and her driveway, making it impossible for anyone in the garage to drive out. Billings spoke into his radio, calling for backup. The scratchy-sounding voice acknowledged, and he turned to her. “Stay in the patrol car. Don’t come out unless I say so. No heroics. Do you understand?”

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