Page 24 of Marked

“Pipsqueak and Peanut. Dave, Beth’s dad, gave us those nicknames when he caught us sneaking a piglet out of the barn. She was tiny, the runt of the litter, and the sow had essentially given up on her.”

She turned, propping her hands on the window sill and leaning her ass against the ledge. A wistful expression crossed her features as the memory took hold.

“What happened?” Tossing the cloth in the water, I sat the bucket on the floor. Despite the overwhelming desire to haul her close, my feet stayed rooted where they were.

“Our parents decided she and I would share full responsibility for Gertrude.”

“You named your pig, Gertrude?”

“Gertie for short.”

We moved to the blanket-covered sofa, sitting on opposite sides but facing each other, and for the next hour, the rest of the world didn’t exist. Her grin was infectious as she launched into the trials and tribulations of pig parenthood. It was just me and her, laughing until our stomachs ached at the mounds of trouble the two girls—plus Leland—got into during their teenage years. Lanie was relaxed and carefree, reliving her youth until the mood shifted abruptly.

“Beth met this guy in an online chat room. She was so excited.”

Knowing how this particular part of her story ended, I slid along the covered cushions, unable to maintain the distance between us any longer.

“Come here, Darlin’.”

I stretched my arm out along the top of the couch; an invitation Lanie didn’t hesitate to accept. She burrowed into my side, her head resting on my pecs while her right hand grasped the front of my T-shirt. My fingers stroked through her long sandy locks, over and over again, trying to ease away the tension dripping from her pores. Eventually, her body relaxed.

Feeling helpless was not something I was accustomed to. I was a goddamn federal agent for Christ’s sake, yet forthe second time in my life, that’s exactly what I was. Completely and utterly helpless. The first time was when I sat in the hospital at Juliette’s bedside. She lay there bruised and broken while the weight of not being able to take away her agony crushed my soul. The difference was my sister never fully recovered from her pain, whereas Lanie flipped the script on hers, turning it into a weapon. She just needed a little reminder how to wield it.

“Tell me, Lanie.”

“I tried to talk her out of going, but once Beth had an idea in her head, there was nothing anyone could say to change her mind. We even fought about it that night.” A shiver ran through her body. “Looking back, I should’ve told someone. At the time though, I thought she was meeting him at the diner in town. Somewhere public…safe. Turns out, that wasn’t what happened at all. She never made it to the diner. The police found her car two miles away in the parking lot of an abandoned warehouse. Her purse was still on the passenger’s seat.”

“How old were you?” I asked softly.

“We were both sixteen.” She lifted her head, her hazel eyes snagging my blues. “I know what you’re going to say.”

“Which means you also know I’m right.”

“It took them two years to find her body, Noah. Two. Years. Do you know the kind of hell she must have gone through during that time?”

Years later, Lanie continued to shoulder the responsibility for a tragedy which was out of her control. She still felt the loss deeply and the scars were etched permanently into her soul. It pissed me off that she’d been dealing with all of this on her own for so long, but not anymore. She had me and I wasn’t about to let her wallow in guilt.

“The fault starts and ends with the sick fuckers who took her. No one blames you, Lanie.”

“Jill does.”

“Who?”

“Jill.” I lost her eyes when her head drifted to the left, focusing on a space over my shoulder. “Her mom.”

The pieces fell into place. Beth’s mom was the woman with the snippy attitude from earlier. It hadn’t slipped my attention the way she’d stared daggers at Lanie the whole night, or how she’d kept to the back of the crowd after the first interaction.

Grasping her chin with two fingers, I turned her focus back on me. “Grief does different things to different people. I’m sure she didn’t mean it.”

“Trust me, she did and does.”

“Regardless, I want you to steer clear of her until I can be certain she won’t be an issue.”

Lanie rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “You do know I can fend for myself, right?”

“I’m well aware, but here’s the thing. Being mine means your safety will always be my number one priority.”

“Yours, huh?” She hiked a brow.

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