Page 135 of The Convict Gets His Girl

Chase felt the word like a physical touch, warm and unexpected.

Jewel's hand slipped under the table, finding his and squeezing. Her touch anchored him, grounded him in this moment that felt both impossible and perfectly natural.

Bill cleared his throat and mouthed, "Welcome to fatherhood." Then he crossed his arms and turned back to Hunter and Destini.

The conversation flowed again, but Chase couldn't stop the word from echoing in his mind.Dad.

She'd not said it as a scream or in pain. Her tone came straight from the mental file labeledlove.

Chase swallowed hard, blinking rapidly. Jewel leaned over and whispered in his ear, "Told you she loves you."

He reached for his drink to push past the knot of emotions. The only thing remaining was to convince Jewel that they belonged together, that their love was real.

After everyone had left and the house was clean, the wind whipped around the old Victorian house. Chase curved his body against Jewel's in the main bedroom, thinking through all the ways he could tell her he loved her.

In the end, he just whispered into her hair, "I love you."

Her breathing didn't change, she didn't tense. Disappointment ripped through him, as she must already be asleep. After weeks of saying it into the dark of night with her in his arms, he should have the courage to say it to her face while awake.

Yet he couldn't stop taking the coward's way out. Part of the puzzle was complete—Destini had accepted him, loved him, called him Dad.

After their morning sex of passion and laughter, he felt like Jewel was closer to accepting him instead of running away. He was so close to the life he'd always dreamed of. Perhaps by Christmas, they'd be a family in every sense of the word.

ChapterForty-Nine

The phone's vibration jolted Chase from a restless sleep, the screen casting a blue-white glow across his stubbled cheeks. Destini's name flashed urgently, her voice trembling when he answered.

"Dad, I need you to come get me," she whispered, a desperate edge cutting through her usual confidence. He could barely hear over the background noise, some music that shouldn't qualify blaring.

He sat up, muscles tensing. The master bedroom felt suddenly too small, charged with an unfamiliar electric worry. "From Kayla's? Where are you?"

"Bonfire out past Miller's field." A soft rustle, then her voice dropped. "It's bad. I just need to get out of here. Can you come get me? Please?"

Chase knew bad. He'd lived bad. The memories of his own teenage mistakes flickered like warning signals behind his eyes. "How bad?"

She hesitated. "The older kids brought beer and made a bonfire. Some of them are... not okay. I've got a bad feeling about this."

She tried to laugh at the reference, but it came across as forced and too high pitched. It triggered his internal file of danger, worry, and being uncomfortable.

His jaw clenched. The protective instinct that had burned for Destini since he'd first seen a picture of her surged through him. She might be young, but she wasn't naïve. If she was calling him scared, something was seriously wrong.

"Past the Miller's? There's a barn that's falling down out there. That one?"

"Yeah, I'm hiding with Skye and Vi in a corner of the barn."

That she felt she needed to hide sent him flying into action and jerking on his jeans. Jewel was working overnight at the clinic, and he didn't even ask Destini if she'd called her mom.

"I'm coming," he said, already moving. "Stay exactly where you are. Don't move. Don't talk to anyone."

He dropped the phone as he put on his sneakers. He'd been where she was now, and he wasn't going to let her repeat his mistakes. "Stay on the line and tell me if anything happens. Are Skye and Violet alright?"

He put on his sweater as he raced down the stairs. At the bottom of the stairs, he paused, phone gripped tight in his hand. They were supposed to be at a soccer team sleepover.

"Yeah, we got away, so we're fine. The force is strong with us. We're like the Three Musketeers."

Hoorays heralded in the background, but they were faint as if whispered in fear. He didn't point out the mixing of the stories either, his stomach twisting in fear that something irreparable had happened to his daughter.

God, had this been how his parents had felt when he'd been arrested? He owed them a bigger apology.

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