Page 44 of Accidental Dad's Best Friend

“No. I just called you.”

That makes me stop for a second. Izzy thinks someone is trying to break into her house and her first reaction was to call me. I almost smirk at that but then remember we are still in crisis mode here.

“Alright. Here’s what I want you to do. Stay with Jax, stay away from the perimeter of the house. And I’m going to call the police.”

“Okay,” she agrees shakily. I hate hearing fear in her voice. It’s enough to pump the blood through my veins so hard that myskin feels hot and tingly. The idea of someone messing with her and Jax has me seeing red.

“Just sit tight. They will be there soon and I’ll be there shortly after.”

“You’re coming over?” She asks.

“Yes. Of course I’m coming over. Sweetheart, someone tried to break into your house. I’m not going to just sit around while that happens. I told you I was going to protect you and that’s exactly what I am going to do.”

“Thank you.” Izzy says after a moment and my voice softens too.

“Always.”

We hang up and I grab my keys and my jacket, heading out the door. While I was as gentle with her as I could manage, I am still seething. The very thought of someone fucking with them is more than I can handle. While I make my way across town, I checklist off who it could possibly be. It’s a neighborhood with alarm systems and a heavy police presence, so that should rule out homeless people. I think there is even a town watch so teenagers and drunks would be stupid to pull anything. Especially breaking a window.

I hone in on that detail. The kitchen window is on the rear side of the house. All of the backyards are boxed in by each other. Someone would have had to go down the side and hop the fence to get in. Unless, they came from a neighbor’s house. I scratch my chin at that. I can’t imagine that any of her neighbors are sketchy. I may or may not have vetted them (without them knowing…) before moving her in there. Aside from one place a couple blocks down that was between owners, no one looked conspicuous.

I pull up in front of the house, parking across the street from two lit cop cars. Izzy is standing outside, hugging herself and talking with one officer while another one inspects the house.

“No known enemies that you can think of?” The cop asks as I approach.

“I don’t think so,” she shakes her head. The very sight of her makes my stomach bottom out. She is pale, shaking and her cheeks are red from crying. Instinctively, I put my arm around her.

“We can keep an eye on the house,” the cop goes on and I grit my teeth. I can already tell that what they are going to do isn’t going to be enough to bring my blood down from a boil. “Maybe have someone circle the street again.”

Izzy nods and I want to press it. I want to give his cop a piece of my mind. But when she nuzzles into my chest, I realize she is exhausted. So I shove my anger back down my throat, away from my pulsing fists, and take Izzy back inside.

“I swear I’m not crazy,” she says, reaching for a bottle in the cupboard. I expect her to pull wine out. But it’s bourbon. It’s then that I notice she is still shaking.

“I never thought you were crazy,” I say, watching as she pours a little into a highball glass, the bottle clinking against the rim with her unsteadiness.

“The cops do. I bet the neighbors do too. All of them except Rosilyn anyways.” She brings the whiskey to her lips.

“Who’s Rosilyn?” I ask, bracing my hands on the counter.

Izzy swallows and nods her head to the side. “A friend of mine.”

“You have friends?” I ask and immediately realize I phrased it wrong. “I mean, you’ve made friends since moving back over here?”

Izzy takes another sip. “Her son goes to school with Jax. Then I realized we live just up the street from each other. She’s sweet. A little chaotic but I guess that’s single moms in a nutshell.”

“Hmm,” I let out, reaching for the whiskey bottle. It’s not that I mind her having friends. But I do worry. I worry about hertrusting people she doesn’t fully know. I worry about Liam and how crazy he might be if he suspects anything at all.

“Jax is over there now,” she says and I stop mid pour. “When the cops arrived, Rosilyn came over. She was worried when she saw the lights. Then Jax woke up and saw Luca and he asked if they could have a sleepover. I wasn’t sure at first but I’m nervous. Someone broke our window, you know? So I said yes.”

I take a sip of the bourbon and nod. It drips down my throat like hot honey and eases my nerves just a hint. “So you’re alone.”

It’s a statement, not a question.

“Yes,” she says, rounding to my side of the counter. She’s in cotton shorts and a pink and black Sex Pistols t-shirt. Her hair is messy and her eyes are puffy from crying.

“Do you actually listen to the music you wear around?” I ask.

Izzy giggles a little, looking down at the shirt. “What do you mean?”

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