Page 14 of Faded Rhythm

We pull into the garage. I walk down the driveway to check the mail like I always do. While I’m reaching into the box, I see him moving around to the back of the car. He opens the door and the girls bounce out. Rae grabs his hand, and Kelice grabs his elbow to steady herself. And he lets them.

They’re giggling again at something he said that I can’t hear. I’m frozen where I stand, watching this tableau with a queasy stomach and an eagle eye.

I don’t like it one bit. It’s unsettling. It’s…too easy the way he fits into the picture.

They wait for me to open the door to the house. Turn off the alarm. Tell them to get a snack. Ask them if they have homework. Same old, same old, except for the killer standing in my foyer watching me.

He’s not leering. Just observing. His gaze doesn’t feel threatening—but it doesn’t feel harmless, either.

“You’re…good with kids,” I say cautiously.

He lifts a shoulder. “I like kids. They’re honest.”

“Brutally,” I say with a smile.

This is so wrong. All of it.

What am I doing? I shouldn’t feel this comfortable. I shouldn’t feel heat simmering beneath my skin. I shouldn’t have such a keen awareness of him, of how broad his chest is under that black shirt, or how his hand looked with Rae’s little fingers hooked around it, or the moment when I laughed and we locked eyes. The flutters.

And I definitely shouldn’t want to know what his hands would feel like if they touched me.

7

King

The girls sit atthe table, swinging their tiny legs, crunching on goldfish crackers and apple slices like they don’t have a care in the world. Their table talk is light—the older one is telling a story about a boy in her class who got gum stuck in his hair, and the little one laughs too hard and snorts, which sets them both off.

It’s…adorable, I suppose.

Sable stands on the other side of the kitchen, arms folded tight, her back against the kitchen counter. Her face is neutral, but the way her eyes flick toward me every few seconds gives her away.

She doesn’t want me here.

Especially not around them.

And I don’t blame her.

She’s using her body as a shield, standing watch, protecting her offspring.

I glance at the girls again, then back at her, and decide to make this easier on her. I make my way over to her and stand at her side, folding my arms, mirroring her.

I lean down a little. “I can stay out of sight,” I say softly, low enough that the girls can’t hear. “Until they’re down for the night. If that makes this easier on you.”

Her brows lift in surprise.

She opens her mouth, but nothing comes out at first. She clears her throat. “I—um…I appreciate that.”

Her voice is small. Uncertain.

My eyes drop to her mouth. Full lips. Slightly parted. Shiny. I imagine them against mine and determine they would be soft. Urgent. Wet.

I push the thought down.

Not the time or the place. Not now. Not ever.

She blinks up at me. “They’re self-sufficient. They do this without me every day. We can go talk right now.”

I nod. “Lead the way.”

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