“You ready, Tils?” I called from the kitchen.

“Just brushing my teeth!”

“Brush fast, the bus will be here in a few minutes.”

Silence, which meant she was brushing fast. She’d had the day off school yesterday, still recovering from her migraine. But today, she was back to her old self, and I hoped like hell the next attack wouldn’t come anytime soon.

I had plans for today. First up, picking up my check from Alf, followed by begging for my job back—and if that didn’t work? I had some serious job hunting to do.

I turned at the sound of Tilly running down the hall, her dark ponytail streaming out behind her.

“Lunch box,” I said, and she opened her bag for me to put it in while still heading for the door. “Kiss,” I called after her, and she stopped in her tracks, backed up, and I bent down.

She smacked a kiss on my cheek.

I held out my hand. “Let’s go, kiddo.”

She frowned at me, looking a little horrified. “You don’t need to wait with me.”

I gave her ponytail a light tug. “Yeah, poppet, I do.” I hadn’t mentioned that her dad showed up, and I didn’t plan to, not until I’d talked to him again. And I sure as hell didn’t want that bastard approaching her without me. The school had made all the right noises when I called, and as for right now, the law was on my side. I had custody of Tilly and he wasn’t to go near her without going through the proper channels, but where Tilly was concerned, I could never be too careful.

She rolled her eyes. “Uh, why?”

“Do I need a reason?” I said, rolling my eyes back at her, teasing. I usually watched from the front door since the bus stop was less than half a block away.

She crossed her arms, pouting. “Is this about my migraines? ’Cause if it is, I’m all better.”

I shoved my feet in my boots. “No, I just like the idea of a stroll to the bus stop, is that okay with you?” I lied, then forced a smirk. “Hey, you’re not even a tween yet, and already you’re too embarrassed to be seen with me.”

Her eyes slid shut and she shook her head in disgust. “You did not just say tween.”

I cackled. “So, what? Does that make you a pre-tween?”

She stomped toward the door. “Ew.”

I was grinning when I joined her outside and we started toward the bus stop.

“Aunt Willa?” she said, after a little while.

“Yeah, baby?”

“I was wondering, can we bake a cake after school?” She looked down at her feet, like it was crucial she watch every step.

“A cake?” I wasn’t sure we had everything we needed for a cake. I sure as hell didn’t have the money to buy more ingredients. “I’m not sure I can swing that, hon.”

She bit her lip, sucked in a breath, and looked back at me. “It’s just, it’s Mom’s birthday tomorrow, and I want to celebrate, you know, like if she was here.”

How could I forget? I’d completely lost track of the days with Trent showing up, then losing my job and Tilly being sick. I grabbed her hand and pulled her to a stop. I had to tread carefully here. Tilly had not long ago been using denial as a way of dealing with her mom’s loss. Pretending Rebecca was still alive, that she was on holiday, or coming up with fantastical stories of where and what her mother was doing and why they couldn’t be together. I was worried celebrating like she was still here would be a backward step for Tilly.

I cupped her precious face, so like my sister’s, and brushed my thumb across her freckled cheek. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea, poppet.”

“I know she’s gone, Willa. But you said she’s watching over me from heaven, right?”

“Yep,” I whispered, my eyes starting to sting. I needed to be so damn careful how I handled this, how I handled her.

Not for the first time, I cursed Trent for what he did to my sister, and I hated myself for it, but I cursed Rebecca as well, for leaving me with the responsibility of raising this perfect little human being. For entrusting me with her wellbeing. Failing her was my biggest fear, the thing that kept me awake most nights. I constantly second-guessed myself, was positive I was fucking everything up.

“I want Mom to see that we haven’t forgotten her. I think she’ll know if we make her a cake.”

How could I deny her that? “You’re right, Tils. I think that’s an excellent idea.”

Tilly had been through a lot in her young life, more than any child should, and because of that, she was far wiser than any eight-year-old had a right to be. My niece was smart, funny, loving, and somehow, she’d retained all of it, even when her messed up world fell apart. I vowed the day Rebecca died that she’d never have to go through anything like that ever again. Her life was going to be easy from now on.

She had school, she came home, did her homework, hung out with her friends; no drama, no worries. I hadn’t been entirely successful on that front, especially with the way things were right now. So, if making a cake would help make her feel closer to her mother in some small way, then I’d give that to her, even if that meant I skipped a couple meals to do it. “What kind of cake do you want to make?”

“Chocolate. That was mom’s favorite.”

“Sounds good. I’ll get the stuff we need today.” I tucked the hair that had already escaped her hair tie behind her ear. “We’ll get baking as soon as you get home.”

The bus pulled up and I waved goodbye as she climbed on. I stayed there until the bus turned the corner and disappeared from view.

I headed home, and got ready, dressing carefully. If I couldn’t convince Alf to take me back, I’d be pounding the pavement until I got another job; that was my only choice.

I was in the living room slipping on my shoes, the TV going in the background, when I heard the news anchor say a familiar name. My head jerked up and I shot to my feet, closing in on the television.

“Video footage of the amazing rescue by former police officer Jude Wayland has been popping up all over social media. Oscar Award-winning actor Jack Reeves released a statement today about his ordeal and thanked the brave men and women from The King Agency for risking their lives to get his daughter back. Both men involved in the kidnapping were apprehended and are now in police custody.”

They replayed the footage. It looked like something you’d see Jack Reeves do in one of his action movies. The second-story window of an old warehouse seemed to explode, glass raining to the ground below, then a large figure appeared. Jude. He held a small girl, who looked only four or five, against him in one strong arm, while the other grabbed a rope and he swung out, rappelling down…with one arm. As soon as he hit the ground, he curled round her, shielding the kid with his huge body and sprinted to a waiting vehicle, jumped in the back, and it sped off. And while that was happening three other figures dressed in black moved in, rushing the place, guns up and ready to fire.

The clip ended and I just stood there, stunned, my mouth hanging open like a guppy. Holy shit. I searched the footage on social media, found it easily, then played it again, and again. There was a time and date stamp at the bottom of the film, and if it was correct, he’d rescued that child and rappelled two stories, one-handed, a mere three hours after dropping Tilly’s medicine off at my front door.

This man, capable of all of that, had a job that required him to do crazy, insane, brave, inhuman things—and still he’d made the time to run to the drug store for us. Someone he barely knew.

And I’d given him attitude. Again.

I cringed and flicked the TV off. Dear God, I never wanted to see the man again.

Ever.

Jude

I poked my head out of Hunter’s office door and seeing the coast was clear, made a break for it.

Hunter’s laugh followed me and I offered the prick a middle finger salute without looking back. Hunter King and his older brother, Van, owned The King Agency. Working for them had turned out to be a good move for me, and it helped that I’d known both of them since high school. We’d wreaked havoc together in the same neighborhood, had been friends for years. Same went for Zeke, Neco, and his woman, Ruby, who were also agents here. We hadn’t seen a lot of each other while I’d been on the force, but the guys here had given me a place at the agency when I’d handed in my badge, had kept me fucking sane when I was hanging onto that sanity by my fingernails…

“Well, if it isn’t the Greatest American Hero,” Neco drawled when I hit the office.

Zeke laughed, and I couldn’t help but do a double take. Since he’d met Sunny, and they’d had their baby girl, Hope, he’d slowly started returning to his old self. The guy we’d all known before he did his time in Afghanistan.

Ruby walked up and slugged me in the arm. “You did good.” She whipped a piece of paper and pen from her back pocket and thrust them at me. “Now can I have your autograph!” she shrilled, like some obsessive boyband super-fan.

I grunted. “No, but I’ll happily shove that pen down your fiancé’s throat if you don’t get it out of my face.”

“It’s a price I’m willing to pay,” Ruby said dramatically, batting her lashes at me.

“Hey!” Neco said, sliding a finger through the belt loop of Ruby’s jeans and tugging her back against him. “We know you’ve got skills, baby,” he said. “I mean, you managed to knock Zeke on his ass, I’m sure you could take Jude; no need to sacrifice me.”

“I was distracted,” Zeke muttered for the millionth time.

“That’s a lie, and you know it,” Ruby fired at Zeke. “I bested you, and you can’t handle it.”

The argument between the two had been ongoing, for months, and neither would relent. I could only imagine the shit she gave Zeke when they were on the job. They partnered up more often than not, which suited Ruby and Neco, since they decided being partners in the field might not be the greatest of ideas for their relationship. Neco knew Ruby could handle herself, but his instincts to protect her sometimes kicked in. Understandably, that did not go down with Ruby. This way, everyone was happy.

I stared down at Ruby. “Jesus, I should have sent you in to get the kid.”

“Like any of us could have held you back,” she said, then instead of slugging me again, she rested her hand on my forearm and gave it a squeeze, her eyes softening in a way that told me she saw way too fucking much. Jesus, they all did, but they knew better than to go there with me. We kept things light, pretended I didn’t have the issues I did, that I’d dealt with my shit, when the truth was the complete opposite.

Ruby gave my arm another squeeze, then grabbed Neco’s hand and tugged him toward the stairs, where Neco’s office, a holding room, and our gym was located. “Come on, babe, let’s go spar.”

Neco smirked. “Gym’s occupied,” he called back. “Anyone comes in, I’ll shoot you.” Then they disappeared.

Zeke shook his head. “I’m out. Sunny has an exhibition at the galley tonight, so I’m off duty, gonna spend some time with Hope.”

The guy’s face lit up, like it always did when he talked about his woman and their daughter. Sunny had given Zeke a reason to wake up each morning. She’d saved our friend and we all loved her for it. “Catch you tomorrow,” I said.

We’d wound up all our open cases, except one, and Van was working that. I was his backup if he needed it, but since he was mainly on surveillance tonight, I thought I’d head home. A beer, a game, and a pizza sounded like fucking bliss. We’d be back at it tomorrow, with a whole new lineup of cases, and I was looking forward to a quiet night.

But when I got on my bike and headed out, I didn’t take the usual route to my apartment. I headed for the house I’d bought for my sister and nephew…the house they’d never gotten to move into. That now had a small, feisty, pink-haired woman with a giant chip on her shoulder, and her niece, living in it.

Willa Hartley had secrets and I got the feeling whatever they were, she was in way over her head. She pushed every one of my buttons, and shit, brought out my protective side. She acted tough, but I’d seen how freaked she was when her niece was sick, how it had killed her to not be able to make her rent.

Hell, the woman looked at me like I’d sprouted a second nose for trying to help, and then she’d actually thought I was the kind of sleazy asshole who’d blackmail a woman for sex. I’d been attempting to be a decent human being.

I hit Maple Drive; the street was quiet as always. I’d been coming here a lot lately, especially after that asshole had come banging on Willa’s door and freaked Fay out.

I slowed down when I saw the brownstone. The lights were on inside, glowing through the frosted glass panels in the front door, the curtains closed tight. The place was solid, had a pretty good security system; though, I’d planned on upgrading it.

I pulled to a stop across the street. How many times had I imagined Kate making the place her own, Louis, my nephew, running around. Family dinners, playing ball at the park down the street with him in the summer, teaching him to ride his bike.

Coming here, looking at this place and what it was supposed to be, what I’d lost, cut me to my damn soul, every time. This house was now a representation of my worst nightmare.

My failure as a police officer.

But worse, my failure as a brother, an uncle, and a protector.

Willa didn’t want anything from me, I got that, she didn’t know me. But the woman was in my house, and that meant, she was under my protection. She was on her own, and from what I’d seen and what Fay had told me—which wasn’t a lot—Willa had no family to speak of and never spent time with friends. Willa appeared to be all alone in the world. Just her and her niece.

Whoever that guy was who showed up, banging on the door, calling their names, spelled bad news, no matter how you looked at it.

Maybe she could handle the guy, the situation, herself, but everything in me rejected the idea. That was probably sexist, and with the attitude Willa had, she’d more than likely tell me so herself if I butted my nose in her business, but I couldn’t drop it.

So far, I’d resisted looking her up, getting info on her background, and I’d keep resisting, because her business was none of mine, but I would make sure she and her niece were safe. That was my responsibility, as a landlord.

Sure it is, asshole.

Okay, maybe I was getting a little creative and mentally adding clauses to the lease agreement, but fuck it, I couldn’t ignore it. I just…couldn’t.

The curtain twitched.

Willa had spotted me.

I pulled my phone from my back pocket and fired off a text.

Don’t freak, just counting windows for some security improvements.

The curtain moved again and I imagined her walking away to get her phone. Her reply came a moment later.

The security system is fine as it is.

I wasn’t surprised that she pushed back, even when it came to making the house safer.

Wasn’t asking your permission.

I shoved my phone back in my pocket before she could respond, started my bike, and headed for home.

My apartment was in Queens, in an area that was busy and noisy, the way I liked it. At night, the sounds of traffic and car horns drowned out the shit in my head. Most nights, anyway.

I’d just sat down in front of the TV with a beer, when someone knocked at the door. I shoved to my feet, strode over, and yanked it open.

Van stood there, holding a six-pack.

“Thought you were on surveillance?”

Van shrugged. “Closed the case, got the pictures I needed. I’ve got the night off.”

I shook my head. “And you want to spend it with me?”

Van smirked. “Sure.”

I knew why he was here. Van was checking up on me. Making sure I was still solid after the kidnapping case. Everyone at the agency knew if a woman or kid was in danger, I got involved in that case in a way that bordered on obsessive. That I’d risk anything to make sure they were safe.

What I did, jumping out of that window and rappelling to the ground, wasn’t anything special. Hunter, Ruby, Zeke, anyone at the agency could have, and would have, done it. But it wasn’t them, it was me, and like Ruby said earlier, I wouldn’t have let anyone else take point on that job, I couldn’t.

And that’s why Van was here.

I opened the door wider. “You better come in then.”

Van walked in, put the beer on the kitchen counter, and turned to me. “Who’s playing?”

“That’s not why you’re here, let’s get this over with.”

Van’s expression turned serious. “How you doing?”

“I’m fine.” I shoved my fingers through my hair. “I won’t let anything affect my job at the agency.”

Van grabbed a beer and opened it. “I know you’d never do anything to jeopardize a case. But you’re family, Jude. I know these kinds of cases get to you.” He shrugged. “I’m just here as a friend.”

I appreciated that, I did. I also knew that I wasn’t handling it as well as I said I was. The dreams, memories, had gotten more intense, and then there was Willa. Was I making her my next crusade, using her situation to make myself feel better, to appease my guilt, even if it was only for a little while? I didn’t want to think about that, or the fiery woman living in my house.

“You better sit down then,” I said, grabbed myself a beer, and planted my ass back on the couch.

I’d do the security upgrade, then I’d back off, before I got too involved.

Whatever Willa Hartley had going on was none of my business.