Before I go, I want to see Charlotte again.

I walk down the street with a backpack full of nothing but the essentials: a few stacks of money and a new identity. Driver’s license, Social Security card, US passport. Everything I need to ease off the grid and out of Boston for good. I’ve done it before, I’ll do it again, but this time feels different.

There was nothing keeping me in Cleveland. Or Des Moines. Or anywhere else I’ve hopped around. Boston, however, is a different story. A slightly more complicated one, too.

I come to a stop outside of Muffin Top. Of all the times I’ve walked into this bakery for a cookie and a cup of coffee, I never once knew that my daughter might have been upstairs. Or sitting at the table behind me with crayons and a juice box. I’ve seen a lot of weird shit but I can honestly say that nothing has ever blown my mind quite as much as that fact.

I stand at the corner of the building by the alleyway and crane my neck around to look through the window. There’s about a dozen or so smiling, happy customers sitting at the tables. Men, women, a few kids, but not my kid.

“Can I help you, sir?”

I turn to see a short, plump woman in black standing behind me. “No, thank you,” I tell her.

She eases forward, her eyes shifting up and down. “Are you looking for somebody?” she asks.

“Yeah, a girl.”

“A girl?” she repeats.

I nod. “About four years old. Brown hair. Cute face. Have you seen one around here?”

She arches her blonde brows. “No…”

“Okay. Thanks, anyway.”

The woman takes a wide step around me and walks off into the bakery. I slink back to the corner and look in the windows, scanning the tables and chairs again for those colorful, familiar eyes.

Just one glance at my daughter and I’ll go. That’s all I ask.

“Hey, Milo.”

I jump and spin around to find Anna standing behind me in the alley. “Detective!” I choke on my gasp. “Hey. What, uh… What’s up?”

“What are you doing?” she asks.

“Just in the mood for a cupcake,” I say, playing it cool. “Thought I’d swing by on my lunch break.”

“Lunch break from what?”

I almost answer my taco truck, then I remember that I don’t really have that anymore. She knows that. “Um…”

Anna crosses her arms and smiles. “My sister-in-law just told me about some weirdo standing around outside trying to kidnap little, brown-haired girls.”

“I did not say that!” I pause. “Though, I see now how it could be interpreted that way…”

She rolls her eyes.

“That was your sister-in-law?” I ask.

“Evey,” she says. “She owns the bar next door.”

I glance between the thick walls on either side of us. “The barmaid and the muffin man. That’s adorable.”

“What do you want?” she asks, her voice rock solid.

I let my smile drop. “I just wanted to see her.”

“Why?”

“To make sure she’s all right,” I say.

“How did you know we were here?”

“Well, you weren’t at home and I figured, single parent and all, that she probably spends a lot of time here with her uncle, so… I took a wild guess. It takes a village, you know?”

“Pretty solid detective work,” she quips.

“Thank you. Can I please see her?”

“Milo…” She closes her eyes. “What exactly do you want here? Visitation rights? Partial custody?”

“No, nothing like that.”

“Because she’s not used to people coming in and out of her life like this. Thought I had a few more years before she had to learn about abandonment and disappointment.”

I frown. “You’re making a lot of assumptions about me, Detective.”

“I don’t want you forming a relationship with her that you can’t commit to,” she says. “You’re Milo Murray right now but how long is it until you drop that identity, become someone else, and leave town? She already seems to like you and I don’t want a heartbroken kid on my hands.”

I open my mouth to argue, but I really can’t. “That’s fair, I guess,” I say.

“Look, Milo, I’m trying to keep a level head about all of this. Honestly, just seeing you here complicates things, so I think you should leave and maybe, after the dust has settled, we can work something out. Okay?”

I dip my head, trying to make eye contact with her. “Complicates things how?”

She avoids me. “I’ll keep in touch,” she says, turning around and walking back into the alleyway.

“Hold on.” I follow a step behind her. “Complicates things how?”

“Haven’t we been over this already?” She pauses and points between us. “Cop. Bad guy. Incompatible.”

“Oh, come on.” I chuckle. “Just because I do bad things doesn’t mean I’m a bad guy and you’re not a good girl just because you’re a cop. You kissed me, remember?”

“No,” she says. “You kissed me.”

“Yeah. After you asked me to.”

“Yeah. After you kissed me the night before.”

“Yeah, well…” I stutter. “You masturbated to my sperm.”

She exhales hard, dropping her head. “Just go home, Milo.”

I stay close as she beelines for the bakery’s alley exit. “Wait, Anna—”

“Detective.”

I grab her wrist and spin her around to face me, pinning her back to the door. “Detective Anna.” She glares up at me. I feel her muscles flexing to try and slip free but I hold her tighter against the door. “Now, hold on…”

I lock eyes with her, completely losing track of everything I was going to say. Her warm breath grazes my cheeks and I lick my lips as my mouth waters for another chance to taste her.

“What?” she asks.

Her voice is soft and shaky, though I can tell she doesn’t want it to be. She wants to scold me and yell at me and push me away but she doesn’t.

I push in and caress her cheek with my lips. My nose brushes her hairline and I inhale a deep breath of her, smelling a bit of cherry-scented perfume behind her ear.

She quivers, looking around. “Milo…”

“Shh,” I whisper. I drop my mouth to her neck, pursing my lips slightly against her skin. Her muscles loosen and I release my grip on her as she submits.

“Detective…”

The door swings open behind us. Anna falls backward, gripping my jacket out of instinct, and I slip down into the bakery along with her.

We slam to the floor. I catch most of my weight with my arms, locking my elbows to keep from crushing her as she lands on her back.

“Ouch…” She winces.

I tower over her, desperately trying to ignore the splendid feeling of her knees hugging my sides. “You okay?” I ask.

“Yeah, I’m—”

“Ahem.”

We look up at the man standing over us in an apron holding the door open. He glares from her to me and all the way down to her wide-open legs, his scowl digging deeper into his face every second.

“Hey, Vin…” she squeaks.

The muffin guy. Her brother.

Ah, crap.

I slide backward, glancing around the kitchen at the other wide-eyed faces, including the woman in black from outside and another young woman with bright red hair poking in from the front desk.

“So, I’m gonna go,” I say. “It was nice seeing you again, Detective—”

“Stop.” Vincent points a stiff finger at my face. “Who is this guy?” he asks Anna.

Anna’s little eyes hop around, shifting from me to him and back again. “I, uh…”

The wheels turn in her head and I silently wonder just how much information she’s going to spill here.

“This is Milo. He’s…” She looks at me, her lips twisting into an awkward smile of defeat. “He’s Charlotte’s biological father.”

Okay, all of it. All the information.

My breath catches and I glance up at the towering inferno of man standing over me. Vincent crosses his arms and stares at me with a hint of steam billowing from his nose.

I give a quick wave. “Hi. How ya doing?”

His eye twitches.

Yup. I’m a dead man.